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 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2019/11/1574696211722.png" alt="Steve Gilliland" />
 <figcaption>Steve Gilliland</figcaption>
 </figure>A couple years ago, students at Humboldt High School in southeastern Kansas noticed that a large colony of chimney swift birds was roosting in the big chimney of the old abandoned high school. Knowing that the old school was scheduled for demolition, the students decided the chimney swift colony, which at one point had grown to more than a thousand birds needed alternative digs to roost in when their old home was torn down. Thanks to a donation program of the Kansas Dept. of Wildlife, Parks and Tourism called “Chickadee Checkoff” and donations from local businesses Wildlife Integration LLC and B&amp;W Trailers, a large self-standing chimney with a bat house at the top was built on school grounds, and already last year several dozen swifts were nesting and roosting in the new structure. This conjures up memories of an adventure Joyce and I had years ago.It was dusk as Joyce and I settled in on the bench in front of what is today Inman Harvest Café on main street Inman.&nbsp; (The mosquitoes promptly settled in on the same bench.) Passing storm clouds spawned a beautiful multi-colored sunset, making it tough to concentrate on the chimney across the street. Just days before, a coworker had told me about a large flock of Chimney Swifts that, for as long as anyone can remember, have roosted each season in a big, unused chimney on top of Jim’s Appliances, across the street from where we sat. I’d heard how each night around dusk, scores of these twittering aerial acrobats could be seen going into that chimney for the night, and here we were for the evening show.&nbsp;Soon a small group of five or six swifts appeared as if from nowhere, and began circling the chimney. Their holding pattern started as low, erratic circles. Soon there were ten, then fifteen, and then too many to count as they filled the air over the building like a chirping twittering swarm. I’d also heard how they would amass into a large, dark funnel over the chimney, and then appear to “pour” into it several at a time. Tonight, though, was different. As they swarmed around the chimney’s mouth, two or three birds would suddenly go into a sort of fluttering stall, then just kind of tumble inside. More would follow but pull out of their stall at the last second and rejoin the swarm, as if guided by some air traffic controller. Seconds later, a few more would complete the docking maneuver and disappear into the chasm. For awhile, the more that dropped down the chimney, the more there appeared to be in the air. Finally, however, all were literally “in for the night,” leaving us to imagine what we would find inside that chimney.“This bloomin’ ladder is heavy,” I complained, as I clambered up one ladder carrying another (surely you saw this coming!) Yes, after getting permission from the owner, and forewarning the cops, here we were, on our way up onto the roof to look down the chimney. The stepladder I had carried up was just the right height to easily see inside. The chimney was about eighteen inches square. The mortar joints had never been filled on the inside or had eroded with time, leaving hundreds of narrow ledges for tiny Chimney Swift feet to cling to, and cling they did! The flashlight beam revealed dozens of dark little forms, each affixed to its own ledge, heads up, and held flat against the chimney wall as if by some mysterious force. This offered an explanation for why just a few entered the chimney at a time. Evidently the ones inside were given time to find their space and get settled before more poured in. As we watched, some jostled around, finding new ledges lower in the chimney, away from the light. The floor was covered with what must have been several inches of “swift-do.”&nbsp;	The all-knowing “Mr. Google” confirmed that chimney swifts never set foot on the ground all day long, and that they do everything on the fly, and I do mean everything! They eat, drink, bathe, gather nesting materials, and yes, even make new baby swifts, all on the wing! The exception is nesting, when obviously the parents have to set for a spell.	Chimney Swifts migrate south and become winter residents of Peru. Although easily mistaken for swallows, they are actually closer related to hummingbirds. In flight, some major differences can be seen, once you know what to look for. Swifts are designed and built for high altitude and high-speed flight, and have wings that are more tapered and saber-like than swallows. They are the birds we often see soaring on the breezes high above town. They are less maneuverable and less graceful than swallows in low, slow flight. They are also a very verbal and chattering bunch. Someone has compared the twittering sounds they make to the clicking together of knitting needles. One source I found speculated that each swift consumes up to 25,000 flying insects per day. (Whoever did that research had entirely too much time on their hands!) &nbsp;	Mosquito season will be here again before we know it, and as I consider the number of flying vermin eaten each day by Chimney Swifts, Purple Martins, and all the swallows I see around town each summer, I shudder (and scratch) to think how miserable a walk around town would be without any of those winged exterminators! Yet another example of God’s planning as we explore Kansas Outdoors.Steve Gilliland, Inman, can be contacted by email at stevenrgilliland@gmail.com.

Exploring Outdoors Kansas: What’s in your chimney?