Cliff Swallows

My morning runs usually start just after dawn, when the air is cool and the birds are stirring.  For several months I've enjoyed identifying flycatchers, herons, marsh ducks and hawks while I jog through my Phoenix neighborhood's golf courses and along its man-made lakes and canals.  I've even stopped listening to my iPod on these outings, preferring the  cacophony of bird songs instead.   While I've regularly seen northern rough-winged swallows, I just discovered a colony of their more colorful cousins - cliff swallows - on my route.

I made a point to return to the their nesting site on a subsequent morning, camera in tow,  when the sun was low enough to provide the best direct light under the bridge they now call home.  It turns out that they are deep and snug enough under an overhang to prevent light from ever shining directly on their mud dwellings.  But no problem, they picked a location that is high, protected from above and most important - easily visible from a pathway used by bicyclists and runners.  As a result I was still excited to try my hand at close-up swallow photography.

It was easy to shoot them in their numerous nests, which they all seemed to converge on at once.  Their incessant chatter and their comings and goings  gave me the first impression that these homes were occupied,  and that parents were feeding their babies.  Some birds remained totally hidden in their dappled enclosures, only showing their white foreheads shining like headlamps. Surely they must be the nestlings or mothers, receiving deliveries of food from Dad.  But then I noticed that ALL the birds would periodically fly away together, leaving their desert pueblo deathly still and quiet.  Several yards away, over the canal and its spillway, the couple dozen bridge dwellers started swarming over innumerable insects, diving and soaring in an acrobatic spectacle.

A short time later, they converged back at their new homes - some re-entering nests, some parking themselves on mud ledges and some continuing 'come and go' activities.  This evacuation and return ritual repeated itself a couple times in my short fifteen minutes at the site.  It was only later, after examining my photographs in detail, that I realized the birds were actually in the beginning process of building or renovating their nests.  With few exceptions, their perches seemed more like the supply of surplus mud.  In any case, their muddy beaks were a tell-tale sign of "Birds at Work."

Was the feeding frenzy a break from the labors of home construction?  Do some of the swallows collect new dollups of mud or do they just re-purpose old nest material?  Are the males doing the heavy lifting for future wives? (The sexes in this species appear identical.)  It'll be fascinating to return to this site in the next few weeks, watching the swallows complete their nests and raise their families. As our winter visitors, like the wigeons and the shovelers, head home to Canada for the season, I extend a warm welcome to these heat-loving summer visitors from South America.

Bienvenidos todos.

A cliff swallow poking its head out of its mud nest.  My initial impression was that it might be a nestling or mother safe in its shelter.

A wider shot of the busy activity under the bridge.

They seem to be lovebirds, peering into each other's eyes. Maybe - building a love nest was the main activity during my visit.

A wide shot of the comings and goings with some birds appearing to be waiting for mud deliveries.

Closer examination of a nest shows that it seems to be undergoing some expansion or improvement. Her muddy beak would indicate she's been hard at work.

We need more mud!

The fellows on the right only seem to have the stem wall done on their abodes. Or are they waiting their turns to make a deposit from their stash?

You really need a camera to appreciate the details in the take-offs and landings.

A next door neighbor possibly building his new home, or maybe drawing from a supply of building material for a near-by remodel. 

A wide view of the cliff swallows' bridge and several of their mud nests.  You can also see the gnats over the canal's spillway.  This was during a lull in action, when the complex was deserted for a couple minutes while the birds seemed to hunt insects.

I tried to get some close-up shots of the birds in flight.

He should be coming in for a landing. But where is the mud? Maybe it's ingested similarly to the way they deliver food to nestlings. Or maybe they're creating mud from old shelters so are bringing water?

Another in-flight shot. His wing feathers show a distinct separation, more like blinds than a fan.

In flight, with a fan-like spread of his wings.

My favorite shot of a pair of cliff swallows. It shows the red, white and blue hues of these South American visitors to our desert city.