A Swallow Caught

This is my annual ritual in August, catching and releasing the little swallows who train for the long flight to the South. The Summer is nearing an end and the little ones are flying around like mad, cruelly, relentlessly chased by their parents. 

They fly in through the open windows, and then they can't find their way out, hitting the glass, flapping desperately, and driving the cat mad.

What I do, is I throw a kitchen towel over the bird, take her into my hands, and look deep into her eyes.

Remember me, and come back next Spring. If I am not laid to Earth yet. 

Remember me. Like Dido asked.

My Little Swallow Friend

A couple of weeks ago the swallows who had nests in my barn pushed their little ones out and started training them for the long migration to the south.

For a few days they were wreaking havoc around the house, flying in and out the open window in my study.  You can see the yellow round her mouth.

This little cutie got muddled and couldn't find her way out. I threw my jumper over her and let her out. She flew off, made a few circles in the sky and came back to me chirping happily. I think we made friends.

The nests in the house are now empty, our swallows have left. There are still plenty of them around, but none go inside. Perhaps they are the passing ones from further up north.

I hope my friend grows up, survives and comes back next Spring. Good bye, little swallow!