Summer birds
“One swallow does not make a summer, neither does one fine day; similarly one day or brief time of happiness does not make a person entirely happy.”
Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics
Swallow
The arrival of the first swallows of summer is a much-awaited and joyful event. As the temperatures begin to rise and the days grow longer, these sleek birds with their distinctive forked tails swoop and dive through the skies, filling the air with their cheerful chirping. Their presence is a clear indication that the cold, dark days of winter are over and that warmer, brighter times lie ahead. The sight of these winged creatures never fails to bring a smile to our faces, and we welcome their return with open arms, knowing that their arrival marks the beginning of a new season of growth and life.
The cuckoo, once a common bird in the UK, is now facing a significant decline in its population. Its failure to arrive and the missing call that used to ring through the bluebell woods amongst the symphony of other birdsong is a stark reminder of the impact of habitat loss and climate change on our natural world. The absence of its distinctive call is a melancholic reminder of a bygone era, a time when the cuckoo’s call was an integral part of the soundtrack of spring. The loss of this iconic bird is not just a loss of its song but also an indicator of the fragile balance of the ecosystems it inhabits. The decline of the cuckoo is a reminder that we need to take urgent action to protect and preserve our natural world before it’s too late.
Cuckoo
Amidst the green meadows and rustling trees,
The joyful chirping of the swallows please,
As they swoop and dance in the warm summer breeze,
Their arrival marks the season’s sweet release.
Their sleek wings cut through the clear blue sky,
With each graceful turn, a celebration nigh,
Their melodious calls bring joy to the eye,
And in their company, we feel alive.
But as we revel in this blissful sound,
Our hearts are heavy with a sadness profound,
For the familiar cuckoo is nowhere to be found,
And the bluebells in the chestnut coppice are silent without a sound.
We long for the cuckoo’s distinctive song,
And the bluebells to ring and chime along,
But their absence tells us that something’s wrong,
And a part of summer feels incomplete and gone.
Yet, we take comfort in the swallows’ flight,
And the memories of cuckoo’s sweet delight,
For in the cycle of seasons, we find a bright,
Hope that they will return with renewed might.
So, we embrace the joy of the swallows’ arrival,
And with hopeful hearts, we await the revival,
Of the cuckoo’s call and the bluebells’ survival,
For they are the essence of nature’s beautiful revival.
Swallows take to flight,
Cuckoo's song no longer heard, Summer feels incomplete.
The Arrival of the Swallows and the Absence of the Cuckoo - an ecologue.
Shepherd 1: Oh, how the swallows dance and play, In the sky, on this bright summer day! Their arrival brings us so much joy, As we watch them soar and fly.
Shepherd 2: Yes, but where is the cuckoo’s song? It’s been so long since we’ve heard it all day long. The bluebells in the chestnut coppice, Are not as sweet without its presence.
Shepherd 1: Ah, but let us not forget, The beauty that surrounds us yet. The swallows’ wings are like a dream, And their chirping is a lovely theme.
Shepherd 2: You’re right, my friend, let’s not despair, For nature has so much to share. The swallows’ dance is like a song, And we’ll enjoy it all summer long.
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