'True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings'

William Shakespeare (Richard III)

A couple of weeks ago I saw my first swallow of the year. It was April 11, which is in-line with the expected arrival date for the return to this area of these most welcome wanderers.

In fact, local author Reginald Hine's 1934 book 'The Natural History of the Hitchin Region' states their mean return date as being April 12. Well done, Reggie.

This swallow (Hirundo rustica) was first spotted by my birding chum, Ian, perching on a telephone wire across a road in Breachwood Green.

We managed to get an even better view as we approached and were able to confirm the initial identification by the long streamers of its tail, the off-white belly and the blue-black upper parts.

The males tend to arrive first to secure their territory and ours was likely to be still resting after the 6000-mile return flight from South Africa.

No mean feat for a bird that is even smaller than a swift and this is not a journey without considerable risk: it is estimated that up to half of those attempting the flight will sadly perish en route.

Even more reason to applaud this plucky little chap, then.

They tend to build their nests in farm and other outbuildings near open countryside and they will often return to favoured sites that they have successfully used before.

But they are not the only ones who desire a bit of rural living and if that formerly dilapidated barn of theirs now houses an Aga rather than a tractor they will have to look elsewhere.

But they are nothing if not resourceful- they have just flown across the Sahara to get here, after all - and if no other suitable buildings are available, they will even use a hole in a tree.

They are unlikely to nest in built up urban areas like their swift counterparts, however.

According to a recent report from the British Trust for Ornithology (BTO) there has been a 28 per cent reduction in swallow numbers in the UK over the last five years.

This is terribly sad and needs to be addressed: if we carry on at this rate you won't even get that one apocryphal swallow that doesn't make a summer.

The reasons for this decline are depressingly predictable, namely the impacts of global warming, habitat loss at both ends of their journey and the overuse of insecticides, amongst others.

An adult swallow will eat up to 850 insects per day and a growing brood is predicted to have eaten some 160,000 bugs before they fledge.

These guys sure love to munch what we love to poison, so I guess something must give and it is the birds who lose their lunch.

As it is the actions of mankind that seem to be driving the swallow's decline, we may also hold the key to the solution, too, and we can all play our part.

World leaders are currently debating some dramatic reductions in carbon emissions but we as individuals can still undertake some smaller things on a much more local level.

The RSPB sells special swallow nest boxes that look just like the ones left empty last autumn and equally importantly it offers advice on where best to place them. Outbuildings with easy access for the birds is unsurprisingly the best tip.

And the Royal Horticultural Society (RHS) has myriad suggestions on-line on how to make your outside space even more insect friendly.

Small actions, yes, but the cumulative effect could be significant if we are all making sure that there's plenty of bugs here for when they arrive and that we are providing them with plenty of places to make a family home for the summer.

So, back to the here and now. More and more birds are now arriving, and I saw at least two others out near Pirton only this week.

With territories now established and their nests built the fields should soon be alive with the joyous screeching and the skilful acrobatics of these low-flying master aviators: sights and sounds that are an essential part of the perfect English summer.

And you don't have to travel far to witness this heart-warming spectacle: along the Icknield Way from Ickleford to Wilbury Hill and the open farmland near the spinney at Oughton Head often provide opportunities to see them fly close at hand.

And what a gallery of memories and emotions these small birds bring to our lives…

The obvious joy of friends recounting their first sighting of a swallow in April; hearing people on the radio recounting the conversations they have with the swallows that have returned to nest in a nearby outhouse "how was the journey?" they say, "it's so glad to see you again!"; the awestruck respect when we realise the effort that they have made to get to Hitchin; my genuine and seemingly undiminishable excitement and joy whenever I see several skimming skilfully over hedgerow and field, and finally, the maudlin farewells that are triggered by their departure at summer's end.

All of this indicates a relationship with a bird that transcends the humdrum and the return of this little scythe-winged bug-gobbling blue-black boomerang seems to represent far more than a 'couple of extra birds in the air over our small island'. Why is this, I wonder?

We obviously admire their beauty, their skill and the extraordinary effort that they make annually to get back to a place that we may occasionally take for granted, perhaps.

They represent the comforting permanence of the cycles of nature- even more important in these uncertain times- and they encapsulate everything good about our favourite of seasons: both spring and summer.

And they are a favourite of art and literature too, from Aristotle to Shakespeare.

And this year their return coincides with the easing of restrictions on our own lives and as we swallow a cool drink in a warm pub garden, we should maybe raise a glass to this extraordinary bird and to the return of freedom itself.

I'll drink to that: cheers!