Staying still for swallows

Recently I was exploring the dry creek bed of an underpass in the high desert. I was searching for animal tracks but found animals themselves.

Instantly I was engaged by their energetic swirling flight and their alarm calls indicating my presence, a series of short one-note "veews." Slowly approaching, I looked up and realized I had entered a colony of swallows.

Having all the time in the world, I decided to sit in the throng of their activity and let us both adjust to one another. An hour and a half later, I was still sitting and filled with appreciation.

At first they steered clear of me and their nests above, seemingly not wanting to risk revealing the location of their young. After stillness crept over me, I became part of their landscape, and the swallows began flying close to my head and body.

As the birds swooped and dipped, iridescent greens, whites and oranges flashed in the afternoon light.

Energy conservation

I was overwhelmed by the chaotic energetic flight of these small birds, but after close observation I began to see how individuals used wind currents to conserve precious energy. Each bird fluttered tremendously for a short period, then opened its wings to the breeze to aid its acrobatics. This sort of flight required energy expenditure for only half the time they were in the air.

Although conserving resources, the entire group of 30 to 50 birds created a whirlwind of activity. The swallows dove and circled around each other, intermittently snapping their bills.

It was then I realized I was sitting in both a swarm of swallows and flying insects.

The swallows were taking aerial insects on the wing in a behavior known as "hawking." While swallows are insectivores all year round, during spring breeding they congregate in large groups for feeding. At other times they forage in small groups or as individuals.

In addition to their aerial dynamics, I was able to observe other behaviors.

Feeding time

After attaining enough prey, swallows returned to their nests to feed their young. The nests seemed to defy possibility, each one constructed from tiny daubs of mud collected by mouth and stuck to smooth vertical surfaces. Each nest was the size and shape of a small Chianti bottle

or gourd with a curved neck. With precise control, the bird flew into a small opening in the neck and delivered food.

As soon as the parents entered, a cacophonous chirping sounded from inside the nest. Such a racket was made that I imagine the parents preferred the hard work of foraging to resting with begging hatchlings.

At times the rear end of a swallow protruded out of the nest, depositing droppings. Other times the adults poked their heads out, searched for danger and then swooped out to feed again.

Once I'd taken in my fill of their aerial display, I searched the ground beneath their nests. Under each active nest was a pile of droppings, egg shells and, at times, intact eggs. These were ½- to ¾-inch long, white, speckled and narrow on one side. Below one nest I found three shriveled eggs, each with an unborn embryo in it. Yet the nest above was active with young inside.

Reading more later, I found that while there are advantages to breeding in colonies, a disadvantage is

that birds of

the same species may lay their eggs in a nest already built in hopes that other parents will raise their young. This behavior is known as brood parasitism and often leads to the dumping of eggs, either by the original builders of the nest or by the invading bird.

Hanging in the 'hood

As the sun began to set, I returned to my car and field guide to identify what species I'd been hanging out with. The white splotch on the forehead was a dead giveaway: cliff swallows (Petrochelidon pyrrhonota).

These birds are common in the summer, identified by their short stocky tail, pale rump, dark cheek, white chest and white forehead. They have a length of 5.5 inches and a wing span of 12.5 inches.

Another distinguishing trait is their nests. They are one of few swallows that build a complete gourd-shaped nest of mud. Good places to observe these birds are at underpasses and bridges over streams. I have seen cliff swallow nests under the bridge near Tapia Park off Malibu Canyon Road.

So, the moral of this story? Maybe it is, watch out for others who drop their children off in your home. Or, if you fly with your mouth open you will catch lots of insects. Or even, the young of any species are continually hungry and loud.

Maybe the moral is simply that it is amazing how much you can learn and take in if you simply give yourself the time to sit, be still and watch.

Meghan Walla-Murphy can be reached at the following e-mail: mwallamurphy@yahoo.com.