Torpid swallow 11.09.1999

 

           

 

 

    Ó Michael Woods

I drove my lawn mower into the old stable where it is kept, shut off the engine and was clearing up, when I heard a fluttering and looked up to glimpse an animal, a bat as I thought, disappearing through the door. Intrigued, I examined the nooks and crannies for its companions.

Eventually I noticed another animal clinging to a wall just above head-height. I was amazed to discover it was a young swallow, clearly not long out of the nest. Its tail was spread and pressed flat against the wall for support and the only movement was a slow heaving of the body, as if it was drawing deep breaths. Extraordinarily, neither the noise of the mower nor my rattling of fuel cans had disturbed it. I spent a minute or so examining the still motionless bird at close quarter until it slowly roused itself and flew away.

The swallow seemed to be in a state of torpor, as presumably the other one had been. The weather was cool with intermittent rain, conditions in which young, inexperienced swallows would have difficulty finding food and might try to 'switch off' to save energy. I have not been able to find any records of swallows becoming torpid, although it is known that captive swallows can drop their body temperatures by several degrees. My interpretation is that these swallows had done just this and they were unable to escape my noisy intrusion until they had warmed up again.

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©Robert Burton 2002