HILLSPEAKING
from The Anglican Digest
MICHAELMAS
A.D. 2005

WE HAVE a mystery on our hands here at Hillspeak.
 
Where were the martins?
 
For the past quarter century or so they have been as regular as clockwork.  We know that we need to get the houses cleaned and up on the poles by the second week in March so the scouts can locate them, ascertain their suitability and report back to the others.  And then, just as regularly, the flock will show up on or about St Joseph’s Day to set up housekeeping.
 
Along about the middle of August they will have raised their brood, taught the fledglings to fly on their own, and then en masse they leave Hillspeak for another year.
 
That did not happen this year and we do not know why.  What we do know is that we missed them very much.  We missed being chided by them when we mowed or walked too close to their nests.  We missed watching Mama and Papa Martin bring food to their nestlings.  We missed watching them feed on the wing (what a hard way to get one’s supper!).  In the evening they swooped and swirled in their pursuit of flying insects and every now and then we would hear a contented, shrill shreeee, indicating a martin had caught a particularly fat and juicy gnat or mosquito.  The aerial acrobatics were, by far, the best show of the evening.
 
We missed all of that this past spring and summer.  We had our other birds — cardinals, robins, red-winged blackbirds, wrens, finches, even a pair of roadrunners — and we enjoyed them all, but we did miss the martins.
 
Maybe next St Joseph’s Day they will be back with us.



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