One of the joys of living he
re in Elan Village in summer is the arrival and presence of the Martins. We don’t get them up here at Ty Olaf very much for most of the time, they prefer to scour the air near the bridge for insects, but every now and then a posse have an excursion to our end of the village.
The time when they provide us with a real treat is, unfortunately when it is time for them to go on their long, amazing, flight to Africa or wherever they spend their winters. On some day chosen and communicated, or known, by these tiny birds, the local flock is joined by their mates, right outside our house. This year it was August 19th, the first rainy day after a short period of dry, warmer weather. “That’s it!” they thought in Popeye style, “I can’t stands no more!” the power and telephone cables at the front of our house were filled with busy little birds, occasionally, taking off into a frantic, short murmeration. Exactly the same thing happened last year, although we did not note the date.
Then just as suddenly as they appeared, they have gone. Autumn is here, winter coming. Go forth and multiply little friends, I hear that you are one of the many species in fearful decline. One early summer you may not return at all, and we will be so much the poorer for that.
