TheDay, CT – Jul 9, 2014
By Robert Tougias
Published on 7/9/2014
I recently made a visit to the Bozrah Hardware Store, and when I stepped out of the car, a barn swallow was seen perching conspicuously on the roof. The sight of this bird brought back a flood of memories. I went back to a simpler time, as a child on summer vacation
We vacationed on a lake, surrounded by cottages and long green lawns. It was a barn swallows’ paradise because of this setting, plus a large, abandoned casino house, full of interior, protected nesting sites. Apparently, back in the 1930s, the old white structure was a busy place, where fortunes were made and lost in an instant.
But time caught up with the old building and the roof yielded to the harsh New England winters. Eventually the windows shattered, and the elements were free to work the building from every angle. Some of the contents remained, stacked up in what was once a kitchen.
By the time I discovered this old casino, it was in rather bad shape, but the curious child within drove me to explore. There were old museum glass cases upstairs, and below a large piano. I can still hear the off-key notes echoing through the mysterious musty smelling casino, as we would bang on it with every visit.
While the outside stairs and porch were rotted and unsafe, the inside stairs were OK. Since my enthusiasm for birds had taken off years earlier, I was amazed at what I found the first time those grand stairs were ascended. The swallows! Coming in and out in all directions, with their ruddy breasts, and swooping flights, they slipped through the shattered glass windows that overlooked the calm lake. There were dozens and dozens of them, their call notes reverberating off the walls of the empty building.
I was dazzled by the discovery; amazed by their speed and agility. I didn’t know much about these birds then, having grown up miles from any significant pond or lake, but I did know that they were long-distance migrants and fed on aerial insects. Over the years, with each subsequent vacation, my passion for and knowledge of these birds grew.
One of the most remarkable habits barn swallows have is their unique style of skimming the surface of a lake by dragging their lower beak through the water while speeding over the surface. I can never forget that. I remember that the female never left the nest for long and her forays averaged about seven minutes. She also seemed to turn her eggs each time she returned. I don’t remember much more than that, and at age 9 my observational skills were limited.
I went back two more times to that hardware store and each time I stopped to appreciate that barn swallow and his familiar colors, postures, and call notes. Watching it fly off was so pleasantly familiar, that those old memories seem to grow more vivid each time. I remembered fishing in the evening with my dad and brothers. During the late evening, the swallows would venture over the still surface and fly all around our boat. At times they would be attracted to our jitter-bug lures. Just past dusk, the swallows were indistinguishable and their dark forms seemed to change behavior.
They seemingly became bolder and their flights more moth-like, but our attention was mainly on our fishing lines. We didn’t notice that they had ceased being swallows, but rather had been eloquently replaced by their nocturnal equivalents, the furry winged bats. The swallows were safely roosting in the casino, but the bats were becoming brazen. Eventually they would fly within inches of my father’s face. My brothers and I, not knowing what they were, would laugh. Sweet memories.
Like music and art, our natural resources are more than just scientific and ecological treasures, they are a part of our world; the continuity of our experiences, and the subtle source of our moods, memories, and sweet appreciation for different times and places.