Funneling swifts in the dusk

Swifts funneling into the chimney at Chapman School, PDX

Confession: I’m a bit of a bird-nerd, but only sort of since I don’t really know much about them. What counts is watching them, hearing their chirping-squawking noises and their flight patterns are astonishing. How is it that they never run into each other? I’ve never seen a bird fender bender.

During the month of September Vaux Swifts use the chimney at Chapman School as a stop-over roosting spot on their annual migration to South America. The watching-event attracts thousands of Portlandia dwellers, including me. When I mentioned it to one of my sisters, she replied “Who are they?” Not a who, but a what. Here’s a peak into my night life:

Sky shows burst with glittering showers of light performing acrobatic feats against an onyx background to the ooo’s and aahh’s of the crowd below.

On a waning September evening, against a dusky background a shower of graceful, fluttering aerial acrobatics entices ooo’s and aahh’s from those gathered at Chapman School. The shoulder season stage is set for the nightly performance as thousands of Vaux’s Swifts come together in an ebb and flow, circling, twisting and vanishing, only to reemerge moments later.

Onlookers with blankets and lawn chairs and picnic dinners are mesmerized as the swifts effortlessly swoop, wind and plunge all around the tall terracotta brick chimney that will be their roost for the night.

Peregrine Falcon joins the phenomenon that seemed to go on and on with unforced exactness. You hear an audible inhale of breath at his appearance. He joins the flight pattern, sending swifts in shattered directions; fear interrupting their lovely air ballet.

Swifts are now the prey. Peregrine glides, talons outstretched as he snatches his feast; a gasp goes up, one less for the Audubon count. Peregrine departs to consume his quest. The tornado of swifts resume funneling into the safety of the old brick chimney at Chapman as the sun sinks low, disappearing behind the horizon.

Bird-nerd's night out,

Missy

ps the count for that night was 4,450 Swifts – not sure how the Audubon does it, boggles my mind!

If you have been mildly amused, challenged or inspired by what you have read, please pass on my blog to a friend, colleague, family member or even random acquaintance

Comments

urban girl in the country

green in concrete For the last lot-of-years I’ve lived in urban areas. I’ve become a city girl with hints of a flower child mixed with hipster nuances…translated I like to wear skinny jeans. This is the total opposite of how I grew up, which was on a farm. My paternal grandparents grew, raised, caught and hunted for everything they ate – radical organic, free-range stuff. On my Mom’s side of the fam tree, there were green grocers and orchard growers. Heck, I was in 4-H raising feeder calves and a small flock of wooly sheep. Gardens, canning, freezing and preserving everything was the ordinary. I carried on the gardening-preserving, saving the spoils piece, until I found myself in fresh veggie-at-a-farmer’s-market heaven! The foreign city I found myself in had a temperate climate where fruit and vegetables could be grown year ‘round, and … it was sold at a giant open air market every week. Yippee! I no longer needed to ...

In full abandon, straining on tiptoes

A scrap of paper tucked in my journal is full of scribbled notes and words, people’s names – really it would appear to be miscellany. One phrase is “in full abandon.” The expression had a reference, but now reading it almost daily, it takes on new significance and worth. a.ban.don: to leave and never return (Merriam-Webster) The word “abandon” conjures negative thinking; abandoned lot, abandoned project, abandoned people. Places and things are left for trash or individuals that have been discarded and tossed aside. This definition certainly leaves one feeling rather desolate and, well … abandoned. On the sunny side of the street, abandon is also yielding without restraint, to give up control. It’s bursting with exuberance. Picture being in full abandon: there’s a child running down a hillside, arms flailing and legs barely able to keep them upright. He is on the verge of tumbling head over heels, but somehow if that happen...

road tripping: french glen and steens mountain

we took a stinkin' lot of dirt roads, but i wouldn't have it any other way The drive wasn’t long by west coast standards, a mere few of hours; which meant there was plenty of leisure (interpreted coffee time) before leaving on another road trip escapade. I can’t begin to tell you how much fun it is to pack a bag, gas up the car and set out to see what can be seen. An interesting thing I’ve discovered on these exploits, is that having lived in Oregon for the majority of my life, I’ve missed “seeing” a lot of things. You know, I think we all get into the habit of going to the same places, which is a good thing, but we forget about the “other” places that are right in our own backyards. Case in point, yesterday afternoon, when my darling man and I went to Tumalo Falls. I’ve been to Skyliner Snow Park, but never gone the few more dirt road miles to see the falls. Holy cow! Is that lame, or what? a sweet little place, no frills, but plenty of yesteryear ...

Isabella Bird Miscellany

Search This Blog