Swallows

July 2004

Sitting here, in the front yard watching something quite amazing…it’s dusk, the sky, a particular blue, purple, grey as the light fades into evening, the sun already set.  A patch of non-descript sky circled by the outline of the tall hardwood trees surrounding the house, their leaves a dark, barely perceptible green.

The time of evening when the fireflies come out and blink in the shadows…crickets and bugs of all types chirping, singing.  Distant sounds of traffic, dogs, even what sounds like owls, beginning their evening hooting…or perhaps it is the refrigerator in the garage, complaining mildly about it’s banishment from the house.

Above me is a swarm of swallows, chirping their high-pitched calls, circling in the opening among the trees, there must be 50 of them, diving and swooping, hopefully consuming every flying insect in the air.  I’ve never noticed so many of them.  They look like an inverted school of minnows circling in a bait bucket. I believe every one of them must live in the chimneys of this house.  Their dance in the air is something to watch, so many, darting and swooping, never colliding.  Sometimes in large groups, sometimes scattered in smaller groups, circling in an erratic ballet in every direction…as if controlled by some invisible tether.

Boats on the lake break the peaceful solitude of the natural world…as quickly as they intrude on the silence they disappear.  So do the swallows, in a span of 15 minutes, but for a few stragglers, they are all gone, having done their work, they retire to their place in the chimney.

The light fades, the sky turning a darker shade of purple…first stars beginning to appear.  Now a few bats take the stage above, flapping silently, silhouetted against the darkening sky…other insects start their back and forth calling, getting louder by the minute as each individual joins in the growing cacophony of a myriad of insect sounds.  To all things there is an order and progression…even something as simple as the coming of the night…if we would only stop more often and observe.

Copyright 2004 by Tom Stites

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