the vaux swifts

Something otherworldly is happening every night at the Chapman School. During the summer, a flock of vaux swifts begins to accumulate here, hanging out and eating insects, more or less vacationing in Portland before their big migration south. As summer wanes into fall, the flock of swifts snowballs to contain upwards of 20,000 birds. By itself, 20,000 small birds vacationing in Portland isn't so amazing. But they don't just spread themselves out at night in Forest Park or on Mt. Tabor. They don't disperse themselves through the city like pigeons. No. Every last one of them swirls and wheels it's way into the tall brick chimney of the Chapman School every single night.

Lucky for me, SK happens to live less than a block away from the Chapman School and we've walked over to see the swifts twice so far this season. It's the most incredible spectacle, I doubt I'll be able to describe it. The birds begin to circle the chimney early in the evening -- first just a few at a time. They dart towards the chimney and dart away just as quickly. They make high circles and then drop back down, always flirting with the chimney. Those few are soon joined by more and more until the sky is a dark swirling cloud of swifts.

This mass of birds moves as one ephemeral body. They spin and dance and fly far loops then return. Watching the swifts is dizzying as the eye tries to comprehend what the brain is explaining. They look like a mirage or an illusion. They don't look real. It's as if a giant, invisible bullfighter is standing in the sky with a black, lacy cape, swirling and flicking and sweeping it through the air. I watch the whole spectacle with my mouth hanging open because it is unreal.

Just after sunset, the cloud of birds becomes more dense as they prepare to enter the chimney. They swirl faster and their shape becomes like a funnel. Suddenly, they are plummeting into the chimney in droves. It looks then like the chimney is a giant vacuum that has been switched on and is sucking a cloud of dirt into its belly. It looks, also, like a drain that's been unstopped -- the birds swirl their way into the chimney like water swirls its way into a pipe. It takes several minutes for all the birds to enter -- and SK and I have noticed that, at the end, a little cohort of maybe 20 birds flies off to the forest rather than into the chimney -- then the sky is still and clear, like nothing special had ever happened there.

Meanwhile, on the bank of the field beside Chapman School, the crowds of people gathered to watch the swifts (more and more as swift season progresses) actually start to cheer and clap for the swifts who have now disappeared into the hole of the chimney. This crowd (people with their picnic dinners, bottles of wine, children, frisbees) also gasps and boos when the hawk, during the full spectacle, swoops in and snatches a swift out of the air. The audience is almost as much of a show as the swifts.

SK wonders when and how the swifts come out of the chimney -- if that is similarly spectacular. There aren't crowds gathered at sunrise waiting for the exodus. Do they shoot out like a blast from a hose, or do they rise, one by one, and trickle out to start their day. Who knows.

If you're interested, here are a couple of links with info and pictures: http://www.audubonportland.org/ , http://taos-telecommunity.org/EPOW/EPOW-Archive/archive_2005/EPOW-050718.htm , http://www.hollywoodpet.com/swifts.htm

The first link has the coolest picture, but not much info. The last link has the most info, but no pictures.