Thursday 4 August 2011

The Swifts

Any day now, the swifts will be gone. The skies are already quiet, with only one or two silent stragglers passing overhead. My best local site, where 50, 60 or more swifts could be seen hurtling acrobatically through the air at the height of the season, was down to a dozen or so birds earlier in the week, and to just one last night. I see this swift-rich site from the train window on my way home, and I know that very soon, perhaps this evening, I'll look out and there will be no swifts at all. And summer - the real summer - will be over. Their stay is so short - just three months in which to arrive, nest, mate and rear the next generation (I saw my first swift on the morning after my daughter's wedding, which was on May 6th - a week later than last year). No wonder Gilbert White was so convinced that his beloved swifts (and swallows and martins) spend the winter in hibernation rather than migrating - how could a bird be raised from a helpless nestling to a creature capable of flying thousands of miles south in such a short period of time? What White didn't know, and what makes the fact still more extraordinary, is that our swifts take epic flights of anything up to 800 miles to evade oncoming storms, leaving their young untended. The fledglings survive by sinking into a semi-comatose state - closely resembling hibernation - which enables them to last for up to ten days with no food. And even after losing half their body weight, the young swifts can recover and grow to full strength, ready for that epic flight south. Wonderful, mysterious birds - how we'll miss them...

6 comments:

  1. First rate harbingers, they were gathering over Culzean castle at the weekend, catching a last glimpse of Arran before the off, seems early for south west Scotland so may have had something to do with the wedding, the Scottish NT hires out the castle for a suitable amount of money.
    Judging by the guests circulating the park this one was strictly into Glasgow drug dealer territory.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Late in June this year I had the good fortune to be invited to an evening meal in terraced house in the mountains behind Malaga, and we were able to look down - yes down - on a valley swarming with these magical (and mysterious)creatures. Today, near Gibraltar, and looking up, there are just a few preparing, I imagine, for the long haul back. I miss them already.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Similar thoughts last week when I was in central France where swallows were gathering on the telephone wires. Summer is already turning!

    ReplyDelete
  4. The swallows were on great form - and very numerous - at Whitby Abbey last week, whizzing past our ears and skimming along within inches of the ground. And more house sparrows than I've seen in one place in a long time - flocks of them all over the hedgerows.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Better late than never in commenting Nige but I was in Maine in a house with no internet and buggered if I was going to sit outside the library in the evening drizzle.

    I remember the swifts arrival the first week or so in May every year in Gloucester. It really did mean summer was with us. Remember once finding one on the path outside the front door. Not sure how it ended up there but after a night in the spare hamster cage it flew just fine in the morning much to the delight of all. And a very very rare chance to get a close-up look.

    ReplyDelete
  6. It can't work in reality, that is exactly what I suppose.

    ReplyDelete