The Screaming Sky

by Charles Foster

Swifts live in perpetual summer. They inhabit the air like nothing on the planet. They watched the continents shuffle to their present places and the mammals evolve.

They are not ours, though we like to claim them. They defy all our categories, and present no passports as they surf the winds across the worlds. They sleep in the high thin air - their wings controlled by an alert half-brain.

This is a radical new look at the Common Swift - a numerous but profoundly un-common bird - by Charles Foster, author of Being a Beast.

Foster follows the swifts throughout the world, manically, lyrically, yet scientifically. The poetry of swifts is in their facts, and this book, in Little Toller's monograph series, draws deeply on the latest extraordinary discoveries.

Genres: Nature, Nonfiction, Birds, Science, Animals, Natural History, Environment

178 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2021

About the author

Charles Foster is a Fellow of Green Templeton College at the University of Oxford. He is a qualified veterinarian, teaches medical law and ethics, and is a practicing barrister. Much of his life has been spent on expeditions: he has run a 150-mile race in the Sahara, skied to the North Pole, and suffered injuries in many desolate and beautiful landscapes. He has written on travel, evolutionary biology, natural history, anthropology, and philosophy.

Reviews

[Rebecca · Rating 4 out of 5]

The other week I was volunteering at our local community garden and looked up to see a dozen common swifts wheeling over the Kennet & Avon canal and picking off insects among the treetops. I hope this fellow Foster (for whom my husband was once confused on a nature conference attendee list) would be proud of me for pausing to gaze at the birds for a while. My impression of the author is as a misanthropic eccentric. A Renaissance man as well versed in law and theology as he is in natural history, he’s obsessed with swifts and ashamed of his own species: for looking down at their feet when they could be watching the skies; for the “pathological tidiness” that leaves swifts and so many other creatures no place to live.

The obsession began when he was eight years old and someone brought him a dead swift fledgling for his taxidermy hobby. Ever since, he’s dated the summer by their arrival. “It is always summer for them,” though, as his opening line has it. This monograph is structured chronologically. Much like Tim Dee does in Greenery, Foster follows the birds for a year: from their winter territory in Africa to the edges of Europe in spring and then to his very own Oxford street in high summer. When they leave, he’s bereft and ready to book a flight back to Africa.

Along the way, Foster delivers heaps of information: the fossil evidence of swifts, how they know where to migrate (we have various theories but don’t really know), their nesting habits and lifespan, and the typical fates of those individuals that don’t survive. But, thumbing his nose at his “ex-friend” (a closed-minded biologist he repeatedly, and delightfully, rails against), he refuses to stick to a just-the-facts approach. Acknowledging the risks of anthropomorphizing, he speaks of swifts as symbols of aspiration, of life lived with intensity. He believes that we can understand animal emotions analogously through our own, so that, inappropriate as such words might seem, we can talk about what birds hope and plan for. He scorns reductive ecosystem services lingo that defines creatures by what we get out of them.

Also like Dee, Foster quotes frequently from poetry. His prose is full of sharp turns of phrase and moments of whimsy and made me eager to try more of his work (I know the most about but have not yet read Being a Beast).

Swifts know the roar of lions better than the roar of the M25, the piping of hornbills better than the Nunc Dimittis of parish Evensong … Are memories of our eaves spiralling high above the Gulf of Guinea? … They don’t seem to prevaricate. One moment they’re there, the next they’re off, diving straight into the journey. It’s the way we should run into cold water.

As I’ve found with a number of Little Toller releases now (On Silbury Hill, Snow, Landfill), knowledge meets passion to create a book that could make an aficionado of the most casual of readers. Towards the close I was also reminded of Richard Smyth’s An Indifference of Birds: “When Homo sapiens has gone there will be lots of ideal swift holes in the decaying buildings we’ll leave behind.” It’s comforting to think of natural cycles continuing after we’re gone … but let’s start making the space for them now. Jonathan Pomroy’s black-and-white illustrations of swift behaviour only add to this short book’s charms.

[Paul · Rating 5 out of 5]

It took me a while to work out the best place to see swifts here in Dorset, there are rarely above my house. Instead, I found them near the River Stour that I spent many hours by during the first lockdown. They were very high up and I wasn’t paying a huge amount of attention as I was enjoying the sunset more. First I thought the black shapes were bats, but when I looked closely I realised that they were moving far too quickly to be bats, not only that they rarely flapped their wings. Then I looked properly.

Swifts!

They were collecting bugs at dusk and swooping and banking in their distinct way. hey were such a joy to watch that I missed the sun dropping behind the trees that night. I even tried to take some photos on my phone, but they don’t half shift!

I am not that obsessed by them compared to other people, Lev Parikian for example, or the author of this book, Charles Foster, but I can see why they both are. The arrival of swifts back in the country is a marvel of the natural world over the modern world. Waiting for Swifts to return from their African journey is probably worse than waiting for Christmas, at least we know when that day is even though it seems so far away when you’re seven. We don’t actually know what day they will fill our skies with their screaming.

Their power freedom and joy are the way everything really is – though we don’t usually see it. It is just when the swifts scream through the sky, you can’t miss it. That is how everything, all the time, is meant to be.

The first line of this book is: This is an account of an obsession. And he is not wrong either. He begins his story in January in Africa. He is full of snake and gassy African beer watching the swifts hunt for their insect food, swirling around his head so fast that the fuzziness from the alcohol means that he has trouble keeping up with them. They are masters of the air, so much so that they almost never land, always on the move, sleeping, feeding continually and even mating on the wing. The only time they touch down is to nest, lay eggs and feed their brood.

Like most animals they are under threat, In the uniquely British way we have tidied things up and the nooks and crannies that they used for their young have disappeared leaving very little options for nesting. Couple that with the desire to drench every living thing with some sort of insecticide, they are struggling to find the food that they need. To say we need to do more is a mantra that needs repeating endlessly; once they are gone they will not be coming back.

In April we find Foster in Spain, waiting on the top of a cliff for them the pass. He has been there a week and is beginning to hate the coffee, all he wants is a glimpse of them as they pass. As much as he looks though, he never sees them, until there is that scimitar flash in the very edge of his peripheral vision. They are here, passing onto the next landmark on the way home; except the UK isn’t really their home. The season of summer is where they live and they move back and forth across the planet.

‘They’re birds, for Christ’s sake!’ an ex-friend helpfully reminds me, trying to bring me back down to earth. But it’s no good: the swifts aren’t down to earth at all.

Charles Foster doesn’t like to follow convention, something that you will discover if you read, Being A Beast. His prose has an intensity that you rarely find these days; it is like having a double espresso directly in through the eyeballs! His passion, sorry obsession, about these birds is almost addictive and is starting to rub off on his family too. This is a wonderful book about these aerial wizards of the skies and the stunning sketches and artwork by Jonathan Pomeroy make this a perfect book.

[Bart Van Thuyne · Rating 5 out of 5]

Een prachtige ode aan de gierzwaluw! Charles Foster is bezeten door deze vogel, en ik ook, alhoewel ik de vogel niet tot in Mozambique na reis. Zijn boek was wel een uitstekend surrogaat voor het 9 maanden durende gemis van deze gierende luchtacrobaten.
Charles Foster heeft een heel mooie schrijfstijl met veel gevoel voor humor.
Je komt veel te weten over de laatste wetenschappelijke ontdekkingen rond het leven van deze mysterieuze vogel, toch blijven er nog heel veel raadsels over. Des te meer een reden om op een andere meer fantasierijke manier naar deze vogels te kijken.
Dat het maar vlug terug mei is!

[Evelyn · Rating 2 out of 5]

A rumination on the common swift by a man obsessed with them to such an extent that he stalks them at various sites where they live, and along their migration routes. Much of the book is tedious, and filled with prose that is more focused on the pathology of author, than that of the swifts. And when the author does turn his attention to the swifts there is a lot of idle speculation rather than scientific facts and information.

It rates 2.5 stars.

[Karen Mace · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an ode to swifts! And what a bird they are! You can't help but fall in love with them after reading this book, from the stunningly beautiful cover, to the lyrical words and prose inside. This is a beautiful book that follows the travels of the swifts and looks into all aspects of their lives, alongside the thoughts and travels of the author as he watches them along the way.

Charles Foster admits he's obssessed with swifts and that comes across loud and clear throughout this book! He goes into staggering detail as he covers the staggering miles flown by these birds each year, and he's there to witness them at different stages of their journey as they are creatures of habit and there is still no definitive answer as to how these birds know where to go, or when! But every year they set out on the journey from Africa to Oxford (his home) and it's the highlight of his year when he watches them return once more.

This is a book that mixes the history, geography and biology surrounding these amazing creatures and I just kept finding myself staring at the skies at regular intervals whilst reading in the hope that maybe I'd spot a swift in the sky overhead! Not spotted one yet this year but hopefully soon!

It also looks at how humans have impacted on the birds, in relation to nesting sites and the use of pesticides on the insects they feed on and you just wonder how this will impact on them in the years to come unless we stop some of our ways.

It's a beautifully illustrated book and full of so many wonderful observations on these birds and their ways and you just can't help but be impressed by them! I will keep looking up and hoping to share some of the authors' joy when they've made their way back to UK shores for the Summer!

[Kirsten · Rating 3 out of 5]

Mauersegler sind die Leidenschaft von Charles Foster. Ein Jahr lang folgt er ihnen auf ihrer Reise. Er wartet in Afrika, bis sie sich auf den Weg in den Norden machen, begleitet ihre Reise bis zum Mittelmeer und baut ihnen in seinem Haus in England den perfekten Nistplatz. Aber die gemeinsame Zeit ist begrenzt, denn nach einem kurzen Aufenthalt in Europa machen sich die Vögel wieder auf in ihre Winterquartiere.

Es ist eine ungewöhnliche Leidenschaft, die der Autor hegt, aber er ist damit nicht allein. Die Freunde der Mauersegler sind gut vernetzt. Gerade zur Zeit der Wanderung ist das wichtig, um ihren Weg zu verfolgen. Ich wusste, dass Zugvögel lange Strecken zurücklegen, aber die von Foster genannten Zahlen haben mich doch überrascht. Ein Mauersegler legt in seinem Leben durchschnittlich 1,2 Millionen Kilometer zurück. Wenn man von einer durchschnittlichen Lebenserwartung von ungefähr 10 Jahren ausgeht, ist das eine beeindruckende Leistung.

Charles Fosters Buch führt durch ein Jahr im Leben der Mauersegler. Dabei habe ich viel über die Vögel erfahren. Größe und Gewicht kann man überall erfahren, aber dass nicht nur Nestlinge, sondern auch erwachsene Vögel bei schlechten Bedingungen ihren Stoffwechsel so weit herunterfahren können, dass sie in eine Starre verfallen und sich so durch die schlechten Zeiten retten können, war mir neu. Auch die Tatsache, dass ein viertes Küken nie überlebt, habe ich erst bei der Lektüre erfahren.

Bei den Freunden der Mauersegler gibt es verschiedene Lager. Die einen beobachten nur, die anderen wollten den Vögeln aktiv helfen oder vielleicht sogar sie lenken. Man baut Nistkästen an und lockt die Tiere mit Aufnahmen von Artgenossen an. Ob das ein Eingriff in die natürlichen Wege der Tiere ist, darüber gibt es mehr als hitzige Diskussionen.

Aber ich habe nicht nur über die Mauersegler erfahren, sondern auch über den Mann, der sie begleitet. Charles Foster stellt für seine Vögeln alles hintenan. Mehrmals verreist er spontan, weil die Tiere an diesem oder jenem Ort gesichtet wurden. Da braucht es viel Verständnis von der Familie, das er glücklicherweise (noch) hat. Glücklicherweise scheinen sie auch Vogelmenschen zu sein, denn danach teilt er die Personen in seiner Umgebung ein. Tatsächlich hat mir dieser Wesenszug an Charles Foster nicht gefallen. Auch wenn das kein Grund sein sollte, ein Buch weniger zu mögen, hat es mir ein wenig die Lesefreude genommen. Ein schönes Thema, bei dem ich persönlich mir eine etwas andere Art der Erzählung gewünscht hätte.

[Rosamund · Rating 4 out of 5]

Foster's fascination with the common swift borders on pathological, but that makes for a book that is both enlightening and entertaining.

[Jayne Hood · Rating 5 out of 5]

It's a wonderful book full of interesting information on these amazing birds

[Lucia · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book took my breath away.

I almost considered deducting a point for the author's poor attitude towards starlings, a species also in decline, because no species should be appreciated in isolation as they're all connected to a greater whole (the author knows this and therefore should do better). But I couldn't bring myself to do an injustice to the sheer beauty of his prose, the urgency of his obsession, and the extraordinary grace of his subject.

What a book.

[Stewart Monckton · Rating 4 out of 5]

In essence this is a book about what we (think we) know about swifts, what it means to know anything about swifts - but most importantly, what does 'knowing' mean when the subject is so alien (but connected) to us. This book is not a textbook about the biology of swifts, it's a book about how we think they are, and we think they mean. Highly recommend. SM

[Kevin Percival · Rating 3 out of 5]

The introduction and the first 2-3 chapters are a solid 5 stars. The authors enthusiasm for, and wonder at, swifts is infectious and a complete joy to read. There’s some great swift-knowledge in here too (it’s not all creative prose), and I wholeheartedly agree with his standpoints on the dangers of assuming dry biological impulses rule everything. I also share some of his anger at the possessiveness and hypocrisy of certain people who say they “love animals”, but don’t act in their best interests. Unfortunately for me this anger replaces the earlier joy which tails off throughout the book. The privileged (I sometimes wonder if the author know just how fortunate he is to be able to follow swifts around the globe between his multiple homes..) rants take the edge off the earlier superb writing.

[Lars · Rating 4 out of 5]

War man vor ein paar Jahren als Freund des Mauerseglers noch ein ziemlicher Nerd, gab es in letzter Zeit zumindest auf dem Buchmarkt ein paar Neuerscheinungen, die sich mit den Meistern der Lüfte beschäftigen. Neben eher wissenschaftlich geprägten Werken wie dem von Stefan Bosch hat sich zum Beispiel die großartige Helen Macdonald zumindest in ein, zwei Kapiteln ihres Buchs "Abendflüge" dem Mauersegler gewidmet. So nun auch Charles Foster, der sich den Vögeln trotz Nennung einiger Fakten weniger wissenschaftlich sondern eher philosophisch-emotional widmet. Gleich mal ein Beispiel:

"Vielleicht war solcher Trost [der frühe Irrglaube, dass Mauersegler den Winter auf dem Grund von Teichen verbringen würden] Aristoteles' eigentliche Absicht. Vielleicht hatte er keine naturwissenschaftliche Abhandlung im Sinn, sondern einen weiteren Auferstehungsmythos, etwas in der Art wie die Geschichte von Persephone und Demeter. Seht diesen ach so tristen Ort – den gefrorenen See. Darunter weilt, in einem Vogelkörper kristallisiert, der Sommer, und bald wird der Vogel aus dem Dunkel hervorbrechen, triumphierend kreischen, sich zur Sonne hinaufschrauben und im nächsten Winter die Sonne in den Schlamm herunterholen, auf dass niemals irgendwo wirklich Dunkelheit ist und nichts jemals wirklich tot."

An diesem Zitat sieht man sehr schön den Schreibstil des Autors, der gut und gern als Mauersegler-Verrückter zu bezeichnen ist und dessen Jahr vor allem zwei Zeitpunkte kennt: Die Ankunft der Vögel im Mai, und deren Abflug Ende Juli. Dazwischen liegt dann eine Zeit, in der uns die schwalbenähnlichen Segler mit ihrem Schrillen Geschrei und ihrem akrobatischen Tiefflug durch enge Gassen und Häuserschluchten erfreuen. Foster geht sogar so weit, dass er den Tieren in der Winterszeit hinterherreist, um sie im südlichen Afrika, ihrem Überwinterungsgebiet, am Himmel zu sehen.

Dem Autor geht es wie gesagt nicht darum, (trotz der im Buch enthaltenen Fülle an biologischen Details) eine wissenschaftliche Abhandlung zu schreiben. Vielmehr dreht sich alles um den Punkt, wie wir Menschen den Mauersegler sehen und wahrnehmen und wie unendlich verschiedenen unsere Lebensräume sind. Und doch überkreuzen sich unsere Wege, und wer weiß, was sich die Vögel über uns Menschen denken. Dass Sie denken und fühlen, dessen ist sich Foster sicher. Manch Verhaltensbiologe wird da die Nase rümpfen, aber genau das macht das Werk von Foster so sympathisch:

"Ich versuche, nicht da zu sein, wenn sie abfliegen, um diese plötzliche, grässliche Leere zu vermeiden. Wenn sie unsere Kolonie verlassen haben, sind sie fort, daran lässt sich nichts deuteln, und der gelegentliche Anblick sonstiger Zugvögel über unseren Köpfen betont es nur noch: Der Mauersegler ist keiner von uns." Und gerade deshalb so faszinierend.

[Ali M · Rating 4 out of 5]

I am fortunate to be in a book club with some lovely ladies. We meet once a month to talk about books, our children and life in general. We also text frequently in our little group. It’s a source of great pleasure to me that the group often shares things of beauty such as a sunrise, peonies beginning to poke through the soil, or the star at the end of a blueberry. “God’s hand is all over it!” is a refrain used more than once when sharing a beautiful image. The messages we share in the middle of our busy days make me lighthearted and grateful. Charles Foster’s obsessive book about swifts had the same effect on me.

What magnificent and mysterious creatures swifts are! Or as Foster puts it, “When you talk about swifts you become an insufferable romantic just be spelling out the facts.” Swifts eat, drink and bathe in the air. Annually they fly over 36,000 miles as they migrate between the northern and southern hemispheres, and they rarely touch the ground. In the first journey a fledgling makes it won’t touch anything on ground, except briefly, for at least two possibly four years. Indeed, recent research shows that swift can stay in the air for up to ten months at a time. Their feet are not designed to roost, but rather cling to walls or cliffs. The only time swifts are on “ground” is when they are nesting and taking care of their fledglings.

The facts about swifts are fascinating and enjoyable to read. But the real pleasure of this book came from Foster’s obsession and wonder with the birds. I loved his joy watching the swifts own the sky, his sadness when they left Oxford to migrate to Africa and his humility in all that he could not comprehend. Poignantly he writes about the dissonance he feels between reading the scientific literature and the sky above. “I look down at the page, puzzle out the graph, try to unknot the equations. And then I look up and see grace, power and redemption, and I do not know how the pages relate to the surging sky. I do not know what comes first – the charts or the grace... I am confused and troubled by the mysterious relationship of matter and spirit,”

I do not believe we have the capacity in this life to reconcile this mystery and I appreciated Foster’s belief that “to follow swifts turns out to be an education in not-knowing.” His conclusion that their power, freedom and joy are the way that everything really is how everything, all the time, is meant to be, made me happy. And better still it has prompted me to look up at the sky with a new appreciation for all that I will never understand and let the beauty of this truth wash over me.

[Kristall86 · Rating 3 out of 5]

Klappentext:

„Mauersegler legen bis zu 50.000 Kilometer pro Jahr fliegend zurück, können im Flug schlafen, und wo sie sind, ist Sommer: Sie sind weitgereiste Weltenbummler; ihr Verhalten ist so faszinierend wie universell.

Zwölf Monate lang folgt Charles Foster seinen Lieblingstieren. Er beobachtet, wie sie sich in Mosambik für den Flug gen Norden bereitmachen, verfolgt ihren Ritt auf dem Scirocco, der von der Sahara Richtung Mittelmeer fegt, und ihre Ankunft in Südeuropa. In England sieht er zu, wie die faszinierenden Vögel sesshaft werden und ihren Nachwuchs großziehen, um anschließend nach Afrika zurückzukehren.“



Ich bin ja ein sehr großer Fan von Natur- sowie Tierliteratur jeglicher Art und Vogelbeobachtung ist bei mir ein ganz großes Steckenpferd. Zudem bin ich regelrecht beseelt von den Autoren John Lewis-Stempel sowie Stephan Moss. Beide schreiben einzigartig über die Natur und ihr Bewohner. Ein Buch von Charles Foster hatte ich bisher nicht gelesen. Sein Buch „Der Ruf des Sommers“ rund um Mauersegler, seine (vermeintlichen) Lieblingsvögel, sollte nun mein Leseportfolio erweitern. Was soll ich sagen? Da ich alle Vogelbücher von Stephan Moss auf Deutsch sowie Englisch gelesen habe, bleibt es nicht aus, diese mit diesem Werk hier zu vergleichen. Ist das gerecht? Ich denke man macht es automatisch. Dennoch wollte ich ohne Vorurteile dieses Buch lesen und hielt mich stets mit Vergleichen zurück. Fazit: Fosters Schreibstil ist wirklich gewöhnungsbedürftig. Er beschreibt zwar passender Weise in zwölf Kapiteln, also den zwölf Monaten, je etwas über seine „Lieblinge“, die Mauersegler, aber dennoch verzettelt er sich in zu vielen Phrasen und des öfteren auch in seinen Wuttiraden über die Menschheit selbst. Einerseits konnte ich Foster verstehen aber dafür bedarf es nicht ein Buch um seinen Ärger Luft zu machen, das geht auch anders. Als Hobbyornithologin habe ich hier nicht wirklich Neues erfahren. Natürlich gab es viele interessante Parts im Buch aber dennoch ist Fosters Einstellung zu den Vögeln selbst und dann eben zu seiner Art dies niederzuschreiben irgendwie seltsam. Mich konnte das Buch leider wenig begeistern und nicht wirklich abholen, da mich nunmal der eigenwillige Schreibstil wirklich genervt hat. Kurzum: 2,5 neutrale Sterne.

[Ginni · Rating 4 out of 5]

It was with a jolt of recognition that I saw the following report in ‘The Guardian’ newspaper in the U.K. this week:-

The common swift is near threatened and rooks and common snipe are now considered vulnerable due to sharp declines since 2015 when they were listed as of least concern.

Charles Foster is a man obsessed by the Common Swift - Apus Apus. I must admit that I knew of the Pallid Swift (which doesn’t commonly occur in the UK), but I’d didn’t realise that there are 112 species of swift world-wide. More astonishing facts - swifts sleep on the wing, half of their brain shutting down at a time, to enable them to do this; a juvenile swift may not touch solid ground for two years after it leaves the nest; they feed on around 500 species of insect, which they catch on the wing; they travel amazing distances, breeding in Europe and overwintering in Africa, to put it simplistically.

However, this is not just a book of extraordinary facts that make us exclaim ‘Isn’t nature wonderful?’ It is a lyrical hymn to a beautiful bird, without being in any way sentimental, and should bring us all up short to realise that swifts are threatened because of us - the human race.

My only criticism is that the author admits to flying regularly to Africa and other countries to see swifts ‘out of season’ - that is, outside of the few summer months they arrive to breed in the U.K. He then decries the effect that climate change is having on the survival chances of swifts and other species. Go figure.

[Buchdoktor · Rating 5 out of 5]

Autor:innen des Genres Nature Writing haben häufig schon in der Kindheit Tagebuch ihrer Naturbeobachtungen geführt und können daher auf Notizen aus Jahrzehnten zurückgreifen. Auch Charles Foster ist seit frühester Kindheit begeisterter Naturbeobachter und -tagebuchschreiber. Seine Beobachtung der Apus apus kombiniert die Beobachtung „seiner“ unter seinem Oxforder Dach nistenden Mauersegler mit der Erforschung individueller Routen „fremder“ Schwärme. Folgerichtig ist „Der Ruf des Sommers“ chronologisch im Jahreslauf verfasst und wird von Meldungen befreundeter Birdwatcher mitgetragen, die sich über Sichtungen austauschen. Foster reist seinen Mauerseglern entgegen, u. a. nach Ägypten, den Kongo, Botswana, Mozambik, zum Tempelberg in Jerusalem, Palermo und Gibraltar. Die Geduld seiner Familie stellt er vermutlich schon ein Leben lang auf die Probe. Fosters Protokoll seiner Obsession bildet unübersehbar auch seine Aneigung und Kolonisierung einer Spezies ab. Es sind „seine“ Mauersegler, er ist im Zugvogel-Zusammenhang der gute, vernünftig Handelnde, während die Menschheit an sich mit Mauerritzen bröckelnder Bauwerke den Lebensraum der Spezies zerstört.

Ohne Fossilienfunde und ohne die Geduld wissenschaftlicher Laien aus den Winkeln der Welt wüssten wir heute erheblich weniger über Zugvögel. So glaubte man bis ins 18. Jahrhundert, Schwalben und Vögel der Familie der Segler würden den Winter im Schlamm von Teichen verbringen. Foster gelingt es, sein Publikum mit Beobachtungen anzurühren, wie Elternpaare sich beim Brüten und Nahrung Heranschaffen gleichberechtigt abwechseln und damit das Überleben ihrer Art verbessern. Gern gefolgt bin ich auch seinem Bericht, wie die Flügel junger Mauersegler im Fliegenlernen wachsen und kräftiger werden.

Mit umfangreichem Zahlenmaterial, Vignetten und Aquarellen ein optisch gelungenes Buch, das auch einen selbstironischen Blick auf den Vogelbeobachter selbst wirft.

[Radical Cartoons · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm a fellow Swift fan, so I excuse this writer's anthro-centricity but I've knocked off a point for his scrabbling for Woke brownie-points at every opportunity.
His neighbour muses that she loves Swifts because "they don't have Nations".
He says that when the Swifts are here, it makes "even me love England".
What the point of this virtue signalling in nature writing is, I can't imagine.
Blimey, if you hate it so much, go and live in Greece with your pet Swifts!
More importantly, how much damage are he and his fellow obsessives doing by intervening in Swifts evolution in this way?
What happens when you die or your house is sold, the next owner tears down your nest boxes, and your returning colony of Swifts wastes valuable feeding and breeding time trying to find new nest sites?
How hopelessly have you confused them, by training several generations to think of your house as home?

[C. J. · Rating 5 out of 5]

The author is completely immersed in his experience of the swifts and cannot help but be enthralled by them. He has followed them to the extent that he knows where the swifts should be at any given season of the year and follows them on their migration paths regardless of any inconvenience to himself. It causes him a great deal of anxiety and annoyance, with himself, if the swifts do not show up when and where he has determined where they ought to be, according to past experience. The swifts chose to live under the eaves of his home and he listens out for their return eagerly. He is aware of every activity of their lives, for example, mating, nestbuilding, rearing the young birds and closely monitors them without intruding on their lives. They are free to come or go, just as they please.

[Paul Mortimer · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was looking forward to this book, but quite early on found myself derailed. Charles Foster takes apart the likes of Ted Hughes, Randle Mainwaring, Hugh David Loxdale, Anne Collie and John Clare for 'daring' to have a poetic insight into swifts which are apparently above such concerns. Then immediately follows by being poetic about bats (size of terriers, black leather stretched between their fingertips(?!)'; the land 'to rustle, undulate, shine and purr'; the sea 'will shudder awake and start to snap.'
Such an about turn on the poetry of nature seriously diminished the author for me to the point of wondering why he even wrote this book if the swift ranges far above our apparent worthless efforts to capture it in word.
It's a shame that such unnecessary toxicity so early in the book clouds what is an otherwise enjoyable and educational journey

[Sophy H · Rating 1 out of 5]

I just finished this after months of bit reading!

My everlasting impression of this book is anger!! The author seems unnecessarily angry and sanctimonious during his writing. He seems to think it petty that people like to anthropomorphize swifts and claim them for themselves, whilst he is guilty of the same during his writing.

It seems more like a swaggering flaunting journal of the author's many "intellectual" travels, with the swifts as a convenient sideshow!

I'll stick to watching my (oooh look at me claiming ownership of a sentient bird!!!!) swifts screeching round the skies above my back garden and being completely in awe of these amazing mammoth travellers of the sky.

[Jane Wilson-Howarth · Rating 3 out of 5]

The writing can be sumptuous and the information he shares is fascinating but despite leading a privileged life, the man is self-obsessed and rather ranty. I was months picking the book up and putting it down again. I still haven't finished it.

I must share this from the book though:
Promiscuous animals, by and large, have smaller brains, for relationship demands a good deal of processing power, and promiscuity is a denial of relationship. Monogamy, as many of us know, is costly and hard: it demands work, though the pay-off can be profound. The work is often emotional work: give and take; forgiveness and forbearance.

[Barbara · Rating 4 out of 5]

Foster lives and teaches in Oxford. Much of his year is taken up with his pursuitt of swallows around the globe. In this book, he writes about swallows month or month - what part of the globe they can be found in at that time of year, what they are doing, the changes in the places they are accustomed to travel to, and challenges they face as our environment and earth change. Foster has hosted them in his garden every year from the time they nest, until they leave for warmer climates. He has friends and colleagues around the globe who contact him and let him know when they have arrived and off he goes. I really enjoyed his obsession with and dedication to these birds.

[Andrea Barlien · Rating 5 out of 5]

I mostly read this a chapter a day with my morning coffee before getting ready for work. I loved the passionate but also meditative tone. I grew up is Australia where birds are show offs but I grew to love the idea of Swifts from Ted Hughes’ magnificent poem. Now that I have lived in Northern Europe for a number of years I’ve marked the ‘turning of the world’ also by the arrival of the Swifts. A wonderful book - I love reading Little Toller publications and the morning reflection has become my favourite reading of the day.

[5greenway · Rating 5 out of 5]

Cracking little book. Insights into an animal we can't help thinking of as 'ours', filling the skies of our summers. (Gangs of 12-15 round our way this year, turning bronze in the late afternoon sun.) The refreshing grouchiness (antidote to the naturey-waturey balm for the human soul stuff) did shade at times into misanthropy but none the worse for that. Dashes of humour stopped the slightly obsessive focus being too stiflingly, um, obsessive.

[Joseph Devine · Rating 5 out of 5]

I already loved swifts, those tiny stunt planes that bring summer screaming with them from Africa every year, but after reading this I was all the more humbled by them. They are miraculous, and so is Charles Foster's tribute to them. I would file this alongside Adam Nicholson's equally moving paean to seabirds The Seabird's Cry, as an example of nature writing that elevates popular science to something poetically and passionately personal. This is not just a book full of matter-of-fact information about a bird species, this is literature.

[Sarah Gregory · Rating 4 out of 5]

I enjoyed the imagination and romanticism of this book. Charles Foster manages to bring everything into it: his family life, travel, the state of mankind, the origin of the species, science of flight and history. His descriptions of places, people and swifts are original and evocative. It is a good read and exactly the right length .

[Loudon McAndrew · Rating 4 out of 5]

Written by an extremely accomplished man but I couldn’t help but think that his obsession with the common swift was a bit “over the top”. How he found time to research his subject to such a degree alongside all his other interests and family life was astonishing.
I particularly liked his references to intelligent swift behaviour to that of Homo Sapiens.

[Hilary May · Rating 3 out of 5]

3 stars which could easily be two or four. I love swifts and loved much of the book, liked the month by month layout. Easy to dip into. Beautiful cover and illustrations though. But anger and self centred focus at times got a bit wearing.

[Judith Bowen · Rating 4 out of 5]

The story of a, quite understandable to me, obsession.

[Megan · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is incredible (but not quite so incredible as swifts themselves...!) I feel enthused, inspired and desperate to learn more about these marvels that call my street home this time of year.