By STEVE GILLILAND
Funny; a few of us guys hanging out at a local workshop, locally known as “The Possum Lodge,” were just recently talking about the chimney that is the center of this column from years ago. Perfect timing, I’d say, as I searched for a column for this week without having to endure the heat.
It was dusk as my wife and I settled in on the bench in front of Jerry’s Café (now Inman Harvest Café) on Main Street in Inman. 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. Let me explain.
Just days before, a co-worker had told me about a large flock of Chimney Swifts that, for as long as anyone can remember, had 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. Anyway, here we were for the evening show.
Soon, a small group of five or six 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…Hmmm.
“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 inside. The mortar joints had never been filled, 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 and several years’ worth of “swift-do-do.”
My coworker had said that these guys did not perch from the time they took flight in the morning until they roosted at night, and my reaction was “yeah right!” Everything I found on the “all-knowing world-wide web” agreed on just that fact: Chimney Swifts do not perch from sunup
Until sundown! 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 sit for a spell.
Chimney Swifts migrate south and become winter residents of Peru. Although easily mistaken for swallows, they are actually more closely 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!)
The old chimney still stands atop Jim’s Appliance store, but the resident chimney swifts have not been seen for a while now. As I consider the number of flying vermin eaten each day by Chimney Swifts, the Purple Martins, and all the swallows I see around town, I shudder (and scratch) to think how miserable a walk around town would be without these winged exterminators! Yet another example of God’s planning as we explore Kansas Outdoors.
Steve can be contacted by email at stevenrgilliland@gmail.com.