A whirl of slender-winged arctic terns dropped down to water level at the sailing club this morning. i had had a tip-off from duncan, who had just seen four leave from there earlier, and arrived at Roswell pits just as fifteen started to wheel about in a tight flock. Unlike the four common terns that were busy fishing, it seemed like they were regrouping for a last push to the north, and after about ten minutes they spiralled up and were gone, leaving their less elegant cousins in their wake.