Each week, Simon Barnes describes what the last seven days has been like for a member of the animal kingdom
I’m seriously considering landing this year. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m beginning to feel that I’ve been up here too long. The sky is the loveliest place on earth, don’t get me wrong. But maybe there’s something to be said for a visit down below. I might even come to rest somewhere for a bit.
Monday
Africa was great. I stayed there several months, but didn’t touch it once. Didn’t settle on a tree or on a rock or on a wire. That’s not our way. I stayed in the air the whole time. But after a while the old urge to move north came back, just as it did last year. A few months in Africa, three months in England and the rest commuting in between.
Tuesday
No sooner do I reach England than the weather caves in – and you can’t catch flying insects when the rain’s knocking them out of the sky. That might be a problem for some but not for us swifts. I took a loop around Germany, ending up at the back of the big depression where all the insects were swooshed to, fed, slept, fed, and set off back to England.
Wednesday
I don’t call England home. The sky is home. Obviously. I sleep on the wing. Nothing to it: get up nice and high, and then doze in circles in the immensities of the sky.
We swifts make love on the wing: how else would anybody do it?
Thursday
There it is. The place I was hatched. Not last year but the year before. It was quite nice to see the place last year, but this time around it’s rather more compelling. When I took wing from that place two years ago I said goodbye to the ground – well, for ever. That was the general idea. Last year, back in England, I was a hooligan: screaming up and down streets with the other second-summer birds, reaching 70mph in a straight and level flight: what could be better than that?
Friday
And I didn’t touch England during last year’s visit, just as I didn’t touch Africa. I can do 500 miles in a day without stress or strain. It’s not as hard as it looks: you don’t burn much fuel when you’re gliding and I can glide as easily as I can do high-speed powered flights.
Saturday
We mostly fly in flocks but inside those flocks I’ve been keeping company with one somewhat special female. We singled each other out a while back; we’ve tested each other in races, both screaming at the tops of our voices. Now I know where it’s all leading.
When we swifts make love we do it on the wing: how else would anybody do it? We do it screaming through the air and my time is coming very, very soon. Then we will have to come out of the sky to make a nest, and we’ll raise young – and before August is upon us they will escape the clutches of the ground and fly all the way home to the sky.
*As told to Simon Barnes
Photograph by Getty
Social links
Copyright © 2025 Tortoise Media
All Rights Reserved
This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.