NATURE: Swallows arrive to Lough Carra

AN UPDRAFT of sunlit air swept in from the west to pull at the water and send light, like shards of daggered steel, rippling as far as the reeds.
I had been watching a pair of great-crested grebes at their courtship display, and thinking how the gentlemen and the ladies of the 18th century must have looked to them for inspiration when the time came to deal with each other.
The birds are presently in their finery, most definitely dressed to impress. One, I guess it is the male (they are too far away to be certain; both sexes are pretty much alike), takes a definite lead in proceedings. He puts his head this way and that, while his prospective mate mirrors his actions. Head up, head down; she follows his cue. Both spread the amber ruff each wears as a collar, raise the black-fingered crown that tops their heads and rattle sabre-like bills with symmetrical timing.
He cranes his neck, in his rather ridiculous posturing. She does the same. Both spread their wings as if in response to some secret signal, and together they rise from those wind-driven wavelets to stand tall, face to face, breast on breast, before diving simultaneously. I wished to follow their underwater course, for it is there, out of sight, that these diving birds are at their very best.
This is their element. They breathe air, that is true. But beneath the surface they are serpentine, sinuous, fully alive. Having their legs placed so far toward the rear end makes them rather cumbersome on land. All they can do is waddle in poor imitation of a duck, and a misshapen one at that.
But see them in the water! They swim at speed in pursuit of the various fishes that make up their diet, hunting every corner, each deep crevice. It is a wily perch indeed that escapes that crimson eye, or the pointed beak that marks the business end of the bird.
Today they are diving not for lunch, but for various bits of water weed that serve as prenuptial offerings. They reappear at the surface with beaks filled and repeat their short dance. This time water droplets fly as they somehow ‘walk’ on the water before dropping their gifts and turning away, feigning lack of interest. Their light chatter, though, belies this apparent nonchalance as it rises to a crescendo. They turn face to face again, each with red eyes only for the other.
Each year I find such moments. They are a gift, as a glimpse at the working hand of a master painter, but living, breathing and more beautiful for their transient nature. The great crested grebes are often out of sight, around the corner of the bay, so that all I know of their courtship is the mournful sighs and sound of splashing that fill the evening air. One spring brought us several pairs; this year only one, so far.
The nest will be a mound of weed within the reeds. It would be easy enough to find, though such discovery would not be possible without disturbing the birds. I would not dare to try, for the thought of driving the pair away is an impossible one.
See, now, how simple a thing can prove a distraction, for I heard of swallows and came here to see. It is April 15th. A friend who keeps records has the arrival of swallows in Mayo consistently about the 20th. There are forerunners of the flock, of course. But the majority will arrive together, over a period of a few days.
And there they are! Could we meet them and fail to feel uplifted? Just see, how they swoop and soar with delight! Just days before, they left that torrid African sun with their hearts set on home, determined to find our cool breeze and sheets of insects hatching on the lake.
And there they are, as a calm assurance that not all in the world is upside down. They are, perhaps, a day or two early, but isn’t that what we are coming to expect? For now they feed on duckfly, a type of large, black chironomid, or non-biting midge. In a week the first mayfly will be taking to the air to provide an abundance of high protein food, just the thing for a hungry traveller.
Swallows!

Michael Kingdon, a naturalist and keen fisherman, lives on the shores of Lough Carra, Co Mayo.