Country diary: The climbers here know the house martins best | Richard Smyth

Malham, North Yorkshire: At this great sweeping crescent of limestone, these dynamic birds are nesting on the routesA quiet day for birds. It is high summer: the moult, the post-breeding season lull, the birdwatching dead zone. It's a sunless day of boiled white skies, so there are precious few butterflies on the wing also, and no grasshoppers going skrrp in the grass.On the path beside Malham Beck - fresh, burbling, the colour of clear tea - I pause to watch a quivering young yellow wagtail (not yet yellow) being fed flies by its mother. Then with a zip and a splosh, first the air and then the surface of the beck are deftly disturbed. A house martin, stooping to take a drink. It doubles back over our heads and comes around for a chaser. Zip, right under our noses, and splosh, a delicate mouthful lifted from the water. Then gone, white bottom flashing - away, back to the cliffs. Continue reading...