Last Saturday (April 8), we saw our first swallow of spring.
It zipped around the rooftops and chimney pots, its squeaky chatter and clicking making a welcome return to the skies above the village.
Mrs F could hardly contain her excitement and did well to capture a photo of the little anchor-shaped bird with forked tail whizzing overhead after its journey back from South Africa.
Since moving to Rutland five years ago, we’ve kept an occasional nature diary on a family WhatsApp group, with observations, pictures and videos. Scrolling back, I can see when the first swallow appeared in previous years: April 20 last year, April 12 in 2021 and April 23 in 2020.
When we lived in Stamford we might have seen a handful of swallows each year; which isn’t a surprise as they prefer open pastures and water to feed on insects, as well as quiet barns and outbuildings for nesting.
But it was when we moved to Holly Cottage in Hambleton for a summer, while our townhouse was being extended for our own growing brood, that we began to appreciate the seasons and the life of birds around us.
The older village houses, including thatched homes such as Holly Cottage, are multi-occupancy seasonal dwellings for a variety of birds – the original Airbnb, you might say.
Our village house today – a 200-year-old stone farmhouse under a slate roof with wooden eaves and adjoining brick barn and pantiles – hosts sparrows, starlings and, from May each year, swifts. There are a couple of house martin nests, muddy domes stuck to the underside of the eaves, but we’ve not had any nesting pairs since we moved in.
Jackdaws also nest in an open chimney, which the young never fail to fall down each spring. Using the kids’ seaside rockpool net, we’ll fish them out and release them.
The comings and goings of birds as a sign of the seasons has been of perennial fascination on these islands.
In The Natural History of Selborne, based on the letters of Gilbert White (1720-93), we read in the most joyful and vibrant language the speculation and excitement of the swallows’ return, typically April 13 or 14, according to White.
In a letter from February 28, 1769, Gilbert White writes:
“When I used to rise in a morning last autumn, and see the swallows and martins clustering on the chimnies and thatch of the neighbouring cottages, I could not help being touched with a secret delight, mixed with some degree of mortification: with delight to observe with how much ardour and punctuality those poor little birds obeyed the strong impulse towards migration, or hiding, imprinted on their minds by their great Creator; and with some degree of mortification, when I reflected that, after all our pains and enquiries, we are yet not quite certain to what region they do migrate; and are still farther embarrassed to find that some do not actually migrate at all.”
White had a correspondent in Gibraltar, where migrating swallows, swifts and martins were observed. But there was still speculation that some birds remained and hibernated, with White citing evidence of cliff falls in Sussex at Newhaven and Brighthelmstone (the fishing village that would become Brighton) revealing the bodies of swallows in the chalk. His frustration of not knowing for certain if and where these birds migrated to permeates his letters.
As I write this, at dawn, with an orange sun shining through emerging cherry blossom outside my window, I can hear the house sparrows above the corner of my bedroom, where there is a gap between the stone and brick barn. There’s lots of quick-fire fluttering and one fluffy chick has already been seen perching on the gutter waiting to be fed.
House sparrows have experienced a dramatic decline: 71% between 1977 and 2008, according to the RSPB.
I rather like sharing our house with the birds and signed a petition last week for all new homes to be built with swift bricks, to provide more habitats for a once common bird that is now on the red conservation list.
Our neighbours have thoughtfully put up three new swift boxes on the north wall of their barn, which overlooks our back garden. We’re all excited to see if the swifts discover them and nest, in which case they will come back every year.
More on that next month. But for the time being, we’ll enjoy watching the swallows gliding gracefully over the roof tops and listening to their village chatter.
Rutland Open Studios
Mrs F, like many artists around the county, is already beginning to prepare for Rutland Open Studios, which happens over three weekends in September (9-10, 16-17 and 23-24).
It’s a wonderful initiative that brings people and ideas together in creative spaces. It’s also a great way for people to visit and tour Rutland. As chief coffee maker and chatty man for our Open Studio, I am always struck just how many people come to the county for weekend breaks to follow the Rutland Open Studios Art Trail.
One of the artists and organisers, Andrea Naylor, has put out a call for all artists to sign up for this year’s events.
Andrea says:
“If you are an artist based in the Rutland area and would like to participate in this creative annual event please visit our website www.rutlandopenstudios.co.uk and download an application form. There is a fee of £55 which includes advertising and your inclusion in the ROS Brochure.”
You can contact Andrea direct on 07590 678468 or by email andreanaylor@live.co.uk or via the website Rutland Open Studios
Please sign up as soon as possible – the deadline is May 31.
By which time the swifts will be back and screeching overhead. Hooray!