Over the last few years the swallows at Cae Rhug have steadily been declining in number. I can recall as a child all the barns and outbuildings were used for nests and often with birds nesting just a metre or so away from each other. Despite leaving these valuable nest sites for them to use freely, we have watched as each year less nests and then less buildings have been occupied by their delightful chatter and shimmering coats. For me their song heralds the arrival of Summer and their departure the arrival of the Autumn. This year, like last year, just one pair, this time with a younger bird in tow, came back to the farm, though much earlier than usual. At the time, we were very busy installing a pond at the front of the house and I can remember looking up delighted to see one on a wire overhead. Little did we know at that point the effect of that pond…
A few weeks later and the pond was filled with water and a few plants added. We were amazed almost immediately to see how bird numbers in the garden increased as the pond became a magnet for those wanting to drink and bathe. Then came the Swallows and the House Martins. As we stood just a few metres away we saw pair after pair of these birds fly in and scoop water to drink, then land and take mouthful after mouthful of mud from the sides. Within days these new arrivals had chosen sites around the farm and begun to build nests. The pond was filled with movement all day every day and we realised that every building was filled once again, and some with more than one nest. As a family we have been privileged to share some magical moments with these birds, and with such a fabulous Summer we have watched the majority of pairs rear three clutches of young. We cannot recall the skies ever being so cheerfully busy.
The pond activity quietened during August as nest building and repairing seemed to be over for the year but on one day last week the garden was filled with what felt like hundreds of Swallows and Martins in a frenzy of activity, drinking, bathing and feeding over the pond. I have never seen such numbers and as neither the pond or garden are very big it felt amazingly powerful to witness such frantic activity as they swarmed about together. They stayed like that for the whole day, the next, they were gone.
Just a few of this year’s young remain now. So, as I will miss them greatly, I painted the last few birds to keep me in mind of them until next year.
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