The last purple martins have fledged (and are turning up in various silly places around the farm, like this guy just hanging out in the fence).

The swallows, purple martins, and crows are gathering together into larger and larger flocks, and thinking about leaving. It's always so sad when the birds leave us for the winter, and mid-August always seems awfully early. But, well, it's Saskachewan. Winter is coming.