When I walked along the driveway this morning towards our front gate Liquorice paralleled me just below the Jacaranda trees that line our track. As I looked down the slope at my little darling scenting for rabbits or birds or whatever my attention was drawn to a small dam further down the slope. The wind was blowing an absolute gale and, I am certain, it must have been blowing of ice it was that cold. At the dam there were about a dozen or fifteen Swallows “playing”. They were flying about a foot above the choppy surface of the water, their little wings going “ninety to the dozen” and barely making any headway into the gale-force winds. Ever so slowly they each in turn made their way into the lea of the dam wall above the then flat surface of the water. When they reached that point where they were protected from the wind with their wings still beating they darted ahead like from a slingshot and would have to veer up to avoid crashing into the dam wall. Once clear of the embankment the Swallows were in an instant blown back to the end of the dam where they would, with great nimbleness, swoop back down and into the wind to repeat the process all over again! As I said there was a dozen or more all doing the same thing, over and over again. Even Liquorice sat and watched them for a time as she enjoyed the wind massaging her coat. When we returned from this morning’s very brief walk the Swallows were still at it, maybe different individuals, but their game continued.
Arthur Witten
Liquorice