On a wing and a Prayer
We’re sitting in a parking lot on Elm Street waiting for dusk because that’s when the chimney swifts will begin to appear. In the plastic container next to us, are five chimney swifts raised from babies at the rehab center. They cling to a towel and occasionally beg for the meal worms I’ve brought along, as we wait and watch.
The “scouts” appear first, flying in wide circles above a building downtown. Then at 8 p.m., just as the sun sinks behind the trees, others join them, coming out of the chimney two and three at a time.
By 8:15 dozens are flying above us feeding on insects.
I take the lid off the container and within minutes four of the chimney swifts are gone, flying in gradually higher circles. The fifth, however, is having trouble. It flies low to the ground and twice ends up on the pavement. Each time I pick it up, and it flaps its wings and tries again.
As I watch it fly another circle, barely clearing the few cars parked in the lot, a group of five or six chimney swifts sweep under it and appear to lift it into the group circling the chimney.
And as they do, I feel joyous, the way I suppose some people feel in church on Sunday morning, as though my heart has been touched by something unseen.
We’re sitting in a parking lot on Elm Street waiting for dusk because that’s when the chimney swifts will begin to appear. In the plastic container next to us, are five chimney swifts raised from babies at the rehab center. They cling to a towel and occasionally beg for the meal worms I’ve brought along, as we wait and watch.
The “scouts” appear first, flying in wide circles above a building downtown. Then at 8 p.m., just as the sun sinks behind the trees, others join them, coming out of the chimney two and three at a time.
By 8:15 dozens are flying above us feeding on insects.
I take the lid off the container and within minutes four of the chimney swifts are gone, flying in gradually higher circles. The fifth, however, is having trouble. It flies low to the ground and twice ends up on the pavement. Each time I pick it up, and it flaps its wings and tries again.
As I watch it fly another circle, barely clearing the few cars parked in the lot, a group of five or six chimney swifts sweep under it and appear to lift it into the group circling the chimney.
And as they do, I feel joyous, the way I suppose some people feel in church on Sunday morning, as though my heart has been touched by something unseen.
posted by Brenda Hiles | 9:27 PM
1 Comments:
Chimney swifts are fascinating birds. I was there to witness the release of these rehabilitated birds back into a colony. To see them appear out of the chimney and dusk, swarm in the sky and feast on insects and then return down the chimney after the meal is an amazing sight.
Post a Comment
<< Home