Polly Pullar looks for the first swallows of spring
Renowned nature writer Polly Pullar takes a lighthearted look at rural life.
SWALLOWS have long been the subject of dozens of nature poems, and have been steeped in folklore and myth for centuries.
They were once believed to hibernate underwater, hidden in dense mud, and eyewitnesses claimed to have seen them emerging from under ice, too!
As spring approaches I find myself becoming edgy. In recent years there has been a drop in numbers of swallows with loss of habitat and less suitable nest sites, as well as insecticides being part of the problem.
Increasingly cold, wet springs make it hard for them to find enough insects.
Often the first swallows I see are over water, where they can more easily find prey. They appear at the farm a little later after this first encounter.
We usually have them here mid to late April, but on occasion it has been earlier. Usually the males are first to arrive and begin singing to attract their mates.
With its glorious glossy blue-black plumage, crisp white breast and brick orange-red face, the swallow makes a wonderful addition to our bird life.
It has long been seen as the herald of spring, though often I wonder why they choose to come back, especially when it can still be extremely cold, with lashing rain and gales that must surely be a shock to them after the warmth of South Africa.
Male and female swallows look remarkably similar. The males, however, have far longer tail streamers. Some are incredibly impressive, and it is this that will attract the female. The longer the streamers, the more likely the male is to be successful.
A long forked tail also aids this little bird’s manoeuvrability and helps him to accomplish swift turns in mid-air to catch insects.
Nest building involves a vast number of journeys back and forth to collect mud pellets. Both birds fashion this into a cupshaped nest, adding horsehair or other animal fibres, or dry leaves.
If their favoured building materials are scarce on a coastal site, swallows may even use small amounts of seaweed mixed in. The cup is copiously lined with feathers to keep the eggs and chicks warm.
Nests are often built under eaves or overhangs in sheds, or around ledges on windows. Old barns are a popular venue – hence their common name, barn swallow.
Swallows are successful breeders, but broods may fail when insects are scarce during particularly cold, wet periods. Once the young have come out of their nest, they will stay close, roosting huddled together even whilst their parents are busy working hard on a subsequent brood.
Swallows have a long association with man for they have always seemed perfectly happy to nest in close proximity. A pair once nested in my new horsebox and we had to leave it out of action and borrow a friend’s for the entire summer until the last brood had fledged.
Recently, our swallows endeavoured to build a nest inside the sleeping area of the dog kennel. Though I hated to do it, I had to shut them out to curtail their efforts, as I was concerned that once there were youngsters, they might end up in the dogs’ jaws.
They soon moved back to the old bothy where they nest most years and usually rear at least two broods.
The swallow is frequently seen perching on telegraph wires as soon as it arrives. However, towards the end of summer large numbers begin to congregate, chattering to one another almost as if discussing the marathon flight they will embark on.
When they do this, it is a sure sign that the days are beginning to shorten. Soon the garden returns to the domain of the permanent residents as all the other migrants depart, too.
I stand in the garden overlooking our fields and watch numerous swallows flying fast and low, hawking for midges over the feathery tawny grasses, especially when the weather is humid, providing ideal conditions for a fly hatching. It’s a mesmerisingly spectacular sight.
Swallows that have bred further north appear, too, and join the throng before they all move a little further south. As they depart I send them a secret blessing and hope with all my heart that they return safe again next year. n
We’ll take another “Breath Of Country Air” in our April 29 issue.