FOLLOW A SWALLOW

I’d watched barn swallows many times before, mostly around my family’s summer home on the St. Croix River. Each spring they’d build their mud nests under the eaves of our back porch. If we even tried going in that door, they’d fearlessly dive-bomb us, trying, I’m sure, to make us think twice about getting that close to their chicks. All those times, I guess I was too busy ducking and dodging to really appreciate these handsome birds.

Years later I was standing on a dock at St. Paul’s Lake Como unloading my canoe after an afternoon of fishing. People were gathering on shore for a concert in the nearby pavilion. Five or six barn swallows traced broad, interwoven circles just off the end of the dock, occasionally dipping nearly to the water. What elegant creatures, I thought, remembering my previous experiences with swallows and appreciating that, this time, they seemed to be minding their own business.

                    Suddenly, the feathered missile 
            came barreling right at my head.

I stopped and just observed the sleek, blue-black and chestnut-colored birds. How perfectly sculpted for speed and the sudden swerves necessary to catch flying insects. It was fun just watching their acrobatics, but I also was curious. Where do they live? Do they have chicks? Are they consuming their prey on the fly or taking it home to feed the family?

To find the answers, I changed my focus a little. Instead of taking in the whole group’s complex, swirling dance, I decided to follow just one bird and see what it would do. Fortunately, with only a few birds in the area, this wasn't hard to do. As my subject plied the air, veering, climbing, swooping to skim the surface of the water, I wondered how many insects it tried for and missed before catching one.

Suddenly, the feathered missile veered out of its orbit and came barreling right at my head. In the split second before I reflexively ducked, I spotted a large fly—or maybe it was a flying ant—hanging out of its beak. Then, just as I went down, the bird swooped and flew directly under my feet—in fact, under the dock. Wow, that’s a stunt, I thought, wheeling around to see it come out the other side. It didn’t.

Ta-dah! All three questions answered: The swallow’s nest was under the dock, it had chicks and, yes, it brought insects home for them.

            What interesting things have you learned 
            about swallows? Tell us about your experiences!