Backyard Nature Wednesday: Chimney Swifts

It's no April Fool's joke! The Chimney Swifts are back!

I first heard them in the skies over my yard during the just past weekend, but I was never able to look up in time to see them. These little cigar-shaped birds fling themselves like torpedoes across the sky. They fly like the wind and one has to be quick and look to the right spot in order to see them before they have moved on. Finally, on Monday, I was able to spot them and follow them as they barreled their way in their chittering flight through my air space.

Their arrival was not a surprise. I expect to see them every spring around the same time that the Ruby-throated Hummingbirds arrive, so I had been on the lookout for them for a couple of weeks. They announce their presence with their chittering calls as they fly, and they are usually heard before they are seen, but that first sighting of the birds always makes me smile because they are one of my very favorite summer visitors.

And the swifts are here for all of our long summer. From their early spring arrival, they stay right through September and sometimes even into October. During all those months, they are on the job, sweeping flying insects from the sky.

Chimney Swifts come by their name honestly. They like to nest in chimneys, but these days most people in this area cap their chimneys to keep the birds out. Some bird lovers put up faux chimneys, towers, in their backyards to accommodate the swifts and the birds seem to take to them readily enough. We, however, have never had our chimney capped and most summers we do have a pair of Chimney Swifts nesting there. They are good tenants, though sometimes a little noisy as the kids start growing and demanding to be fed, but it's a sound that I actually enjoy.

Swifts live their lives on the wing and they have weak legs and feet that are not meant for perching like most songbirds, but they can easily cling to the vertical rough surface of a brick chimney or similar structure.

They "glue" their nest to the vertical surface, using their saliva, and raise their family there.

Chimney Swifts are common and widespread throughout all the eastern United States. They are so common, in fact, that they may go unremarked by most people. But not by me. I look forward to their presence as much as the blooming of the redbud tree to tell me that spring has truly come.

(For more information about these interesting little birds, visit ChimneySwifts.org.)

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters! Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...

The Nature of Things

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