On cherishing the remains of summer

When the apples have ripened and the swifts have gone

We have been renovating a house, taking it all the way back to its bones. The work began the day I returned from Japan in July, and will go on for many months. There is so much I’d like to share about the whole experience at some point, but today I’d like to talk about the swifts.

The house came with an old car port of sorts, which we have turned into a potting shed, by way of repurposing an old sink and building a long bench, shelves and a log store out of used scaffold boards. To our delight, there were swifts nesting in the roof, darting in and out to feed their babies. Their call has been a soundtrack of the summer.

We went to Cornwall for a couple of nights, and when we returned I found a pile of thin sticks, crispy leaves and tiny feathers on the bench. It wasn’t formed well enough to be an entire nest (which I could still see in the eaves), but it wasn’t messy enough to suggest a fox. Apparently swifts have few natural predators due to their speed of flight, and the fact that they nest in small crevices of buildings. There is a hawk that circles the house sometimes, and there are seagulls this near the coast, but I can’t imagine any of them investigating the potting shed. More likely is that a baby swift fell from the nest, taking some of the lining with it, and that makes my heart hurt. We were not there that day, and there was no bird by the time we returned. Ever since I have been learning all I can about swifts, as if somehow that will compensate for not being able to help that fallen one (which of course it will not, but might prepare me better for next time, should it happen again).

The swifts have left now, and will be somewhere over mainland Europe on their way to Africa for the winter, flying at nearly 70mph and sleeping on the wing. It astonishes me to think that they will return to this little potting shed in future years after travelling such distances. Here in the UK swifts were added to the red list in the 2021 UK Conservation Status Report because so many old buildings are being renovated and gaps in soffits closed up, which means their nesting sites are fast disappearing. I will make sure that our house renovation includes new bird boxes at the house roof level, and holes for them to return to their nests in the potting shed.

Did you know a swift can fly up to two million miles in their lifetime? Ever since I learnt this, I haven’t stopped thinking about all they will witness on their journey over lands of peace and lands of war. So much beauty. So much brutality. Children splashing in pools in one place, children seeing things children shouldn’t see in other places. Meanwhile I put my children to work collecting apples to make a crumble with blackberries from Grandad’s allotment, and wonder about the madness of it all.

I cannot watch the news on television these days, but I read the stories, and mourn the losses. To get caught up in the details of renovating a house, and to have fun in the sun when the world is raging seem wrong somehow, and yet something somewhere tells me that things like nest building and joy seeking matter, because of the impact they have on our nervous systems and wellbeing, which in turn support us in staying close to what is happening, and doing the work we need to do in the world.

The truth is there has been a lot of laughter in our house this summer. It has been distracting, but in the best kind of way. The new book I am working on has been shelved until September, when the children return to school, the sunlight starts to thin, and I can pull on my writing cardi and get back to work.

For now I am savouring the remains of summer, paddleboarding, pressing seaweed, sketching at the beach, watching seagulls peck at the windfall apples, making plans for bird boxes, eating crumble for breakfast and cycling country lanes at dusk.

How about you? Tell me, what has brought you joy this summer?

Beth Xx

PS My free #tinysummerpoem challenge is starting again tomorrow, and will run until the end of August. Come and join in on Instagram @bethkempton or on Substack Notes here.

PPS If you have lost your writing mojo and want to get inspired to write some long form pieces, come and join my Summer of Substack essay festival. Hundreds of wonderful essays have been shared already. If you join my private writing community SoulCircle, you’ll get instant access to the past four weeks’ audios and writing invitations (on Specificity | Generosity | Originality | Vulnerability) and you’ll get two more delivered into your inbox over the last two weeks of August. To join just click here and choose Monthly to try it out or Annual to get a lovely discount. You’ll be just in time for our Quarterly Ask-Me-Anything Live Q&A next week!