Late April Migrants

For most birders the arrival of the migrants in sprng is probably the the most fascinating time of the year. The reasons for this seem pretty obvious; there's an element of unpredictability about what might be around on a daily basis as some species which have not been observable for several months begin to turn up (or don't) and there's always the chance of a local rarity as birds which are moving through your patch to settle on somebody else's might briefly reveal themselves All of this seems to reveal that birding is partly a sublimated form of hunting and collecting, and spring migration provides the most productive time for such pursuits
But the fascination of this time of year goes much deeper than that; it is all tied up with the celebration of the nature's regenerative cycle: it is a right of spring.
Such a celebration is not of course the preserve of just the birding world ; anticipating and observing the re-appearance of  the familiar flowers and blossoms of  spring causes a similiar response in most people. Nevertheless, bird activity in spring has elements which intensify such response. The unpredictability already mentioned is one of these. Within limits, anything might turn up becaue of the vagaries of weather conditions and there is also the important element of luck; passage migrants do not usually hang around, and being in the right place at the right time can be only partly anticipated.
But it is the curious phenomenon of migration itself which is the most important element. Millions of birds, and most of them tiny ones, undertake dangerous journeys of thousands of miles and then suddenly appear in our gardens and fields. And for just a few species we can  actually watch them undertaking the journey.
And so it was yesterday. An early walk around La Tache revealed five wheaters sat in a stoney field, They had arrived overnight and may well have been in a field in Spain the previous day. Three stone curlews were in another field. They have been with us for some weeks but the montague's harrier which rose from the ground in an adjacent field had possibly just arrived. Nightingales and cuckoos have also been with us since earlier in the month and were making their familiar sounds but the brief snatches of golden oriole song and the purring of  a turtle dove were reminders that some birds were only just turning up.
In the afternoon I had to drive to Cognac and that provided the most fascinating and moving displays of migration. All along the route a few black kites were slowly drifting by but at a completely different rate the swifts and the swallows were dashing  northwards in their hundreds, the former at very low levels and often slipping between the moving vehicles, the former only slightly higher. None of these small birds were settling. The wind was in the north and they were moving strongly into it. A day or two ago they were probably still in Africa; and to where were they going? Perhaps they will nest in church towers and barns in Scotland or Scandanavia or maybe they are close to their journey's end and will settle at a familiar spot in The Vendee. Either way, it was a privilege to be be able to watch them go by.