Another Life: Aerial mating and breast to breast battles
Infrared cameras in swifts’ nests are providing a different kind of peep show
Higher and spire: David Lack studied swifts in Oxford. Illustration: Michael Viney
I miss the coming of city swifts – the change in the sky from one day to the next. In my rooftop bachelor pad in Ballsbridge, circa 1965, I enjoyed the sudden swirl of fresh life above the chimneys, the space-carving arcs of flight, each with its gliding cursor of dark wings. Occasionally, when the traffic eased, I could even hear them calling – screaming, if you like.
Most Dubliners, heads bent as they hurry or cocked to a mobile, may take longer to register the arrival, in the next few days, of the last spring migrants from Africa. In the Georgian, horse-drawn city, swifts could scarcely be ignored as they swooped down and dashed through the streets to feast on a haze of golden dung flies, sometimes knocking off hats as they flew.
They were nesting, two or three pairs at a time, in crevices beneath the window sills of red-brick houses, also in their eaves and soffit boards, and in the more natural crannies of cliffs at Howth and Bray Head. In today’s cities of concrete and glass there are few such accommodating apertures, and a European effort has sprung up to check the global decline of Apus apus, at least as an urban visitor.
In Ireland this has been led by amateur enthusiasts in the North (saveourswifts. org.uk) who have established swift nesting colonies on their houses. Helped by ornithologists in the Republic, they promote the use of “swift bricks” – hollow bricks made of woodcrete. Like garden tit boxes or bat boxes, these provide new breeding posts at a growing number of modern rooflines around the country.
Some are fitted to plant rooms on top of Dublin’s civic offices (viewable from Ormond Quay). To quote from last month’s international conference on swifts in Cambridge in England, “Screaming swifts are the sound of summer from Dublin to Beijing.” But they are by no means a pleasure exclusive to big cities, and the conference welcomed Lynda Huxley of Galway-Mayo Institute of Technology in Castlebar.
She heads the college’s “green campus” committee, which, two years ago, installed a dozen nest boxes under the eaves of the refurbished old mental hospital. Last year swifts were filmed exploring the boxes and even bringing nesting material into them. This year infrared cameras are installed in all of them, and events in the four most active will be streamed live on the institute’s home page (gmit.ie) – the only such peep show in Ireland.