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On my walks to the Post Office in Flint Hill I see brown swallows diving, swooping and turning in the air with such speed it is difficult to follow them. They are graceful birds with brownish backs and a pale wash-of tan across the throat. I finally saw one well when it perched on a utility wire around the corner from the bank on Route 647.
Before the view that finally identified them for me, 1 stood one day nearly opposite the Flint Hill store and swallow watched for perhaps fifteen minutes. How odd I must have looked, standing in the middle of town with no seeming purpose. That was soon after we moved here. By now I suppose neighbors are used to my strange behavior.
The swallows swooped over Route 522 in no pattern apparent to me. They were snatching insects from the air like the other members of the family familiar to most of us: Bam Swallows and Purple Martins. When the brown bird I was trying to follow in its erratic flight pitched into a drain pipe in a masonry wall, I knew its name: the Roughwinged Swallow. It is not a common bird by any measure though it does occur throughout the United States and Canada.
In that drain pipe the bird had built a nest. As summer progressed I often watched these birds as one, then the other, swirled through the air and, without losing speed, disappeared into the
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