A Song To Spring

Of course John Clare wrote a poem about the swallow:

Swift goes the sooty swallow o'er the heath,
Swifter than skims the cloud-rack of the skies;
As swiftly flies its shadow underneath,
And on his wing the twittering sunbeam lies,
As bright as water glitters in the eyes
Of those it passes; 'tis a pretty thing,
The ornament of meadows and clear skies:
With dingy breast and narrow pointed wing,
Its daily twittering is a song to Spring.


What a joy to see swallows perching in one of our ash trees this morning, even if the tree is suffering from ash dieback. I've not seen them do this here before. Up until now I've only seen them wheeling high in the sky. It was wonderful to hear them twittering, particularly that long final note. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=78Y50i5i9lA It took me back to my childhood. Swallows used to nest in our 'stoke hole'. Glasshouse boilers were installed then below ground level to facilitate gravity feeding. The hole in an unused boiler house would fill with water and we children were warned not to play in it for fear of contracting polio which was rife at the time.