When the Swallows Do Not Come Back: The Need for Soybeans in China Leaves Us With a Sudden, Silent Summer

Five years ago, in the summer of '02, we painted our house. It was during the summer, the time that the barn swallows build their nests and raise two families before departing, in mid-September, for their winter home in Argentina. The swallows have been part-time residents on our property for generations; in the spirit of supportive co-existence, we waited until the birds departed before washing down the nests and painting all the places, high in the eaves, tucked into corners, where the thirty or forty families had lived.

The prime piece of barn swallow real estate had always been northeast corner of the south porch, the warmest spot in our valley, and, to our delight, clearly visible from the kitchen window. The one drawback to that location, unfortunately, was its close proximity to our picnic table; we've shared our outdoor meals, summer after summer, with the barn swallow families and their less-than-stellar housekeeping.

Suddenly, in the summer of '04, the corner was empty. So were many other corners, many choice places prized by the former migrants. I wondered why. I wondered why, on April 18, when the swallows return to Centerville, we had, by my estimate, at least a 50% decline. So, I called the experts -- the folks at the mission in San Juan Capistrano. Well, yes, the woman said, they had seen a tremendous decline, particularly in the last year or so, but they thought it was because swallows were nesting in their local shopping centers and housing developments, hanging out at the mall, rather than returning to the Mission.

Continuing the quest, I called Little Bird Jobs. a company in Eureka, California, near where we live; there, a biologist said that because of our unusually rainy April in 2003, many swallows had been unable to build quickly and, therefore, were unable to raise two families.