The Season’s Migrants: Migratory Birds’ Farewell Before the Journey
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A Farewell Letter to Migratory Birds and to Summer
Dear Travel Diary,
I want this to be the final August piece. A gentle goodbye to summer through the birds that are about to leave.
In the piece I wrote here about swallows, I mentioned how migratory birds are programmed to migrate. You know we define VAGMAG as a Quarterly Travel Journal. Seasons and seasonal transitions matter to us deeply here.
Therefore, writing about migratory birds—one of the clearest symbols of the shift from summer to autumn—is a bit melancholic but also profoundly admirable.
The fact that these adventurous spirits are simply being themselves, content with the conditions and opportunities of where they are, is truly inspiring. The absence of social media among birds is perhaps a hopeful sign for the ecosystem. I wouldn’t want a swallow to envy a seagull and settle near the sea. It is natural for it to fulfill itself, to follow its biological rhythm, without needing to become something else.
Sudden Swallow Dive
I have always been curious about migratory birds. In my childhood, there was a swallow's nest on our balcony every summer, and it was believed to bring bad luck to disturb them. I always found superstitions silly. No nest should be disturbed, even if we don’t believe it brings bad luck.
This first summer I spent at home after a long time helped me rediscover my curiosity. If you encounter me outside, you’ll notice I often watch the sky. I only realized why my phone is filled with videos of birds in flight when a swallow made a sudden dive in the air during one of my long daily walks.
Swallows had already caught my attention with their graceful posture and fast, agile flights, but that diving moment was unlike anything I had seen in any other bird. It reminded me of the sudden, radical decisions I’ve made in life. That moment deepened my fascination with migratory birds—especially swallows—and soon after, they became the logo for VAGY, our brand for aesthetic and functional travel products.
The Cast of Late Summer
Swallows and swifts in the evenings. Storks staging before departure. European bee-eaters flashing color. A brief theatre of flight at the close of August.
Of course, swallows are not the only migratory bird species.
There are around 10,000 bird species worldwide, and more than 40% of them are migratory. This means over 4,000 species move at certain times of the year. That number alone shows what a grand symphony migration is. Movement and travel are woven into the fabric of nature itself.
Some of the familiar ones:
Swallows (house swallow): Summer in Europe, winter in Africa.
Storks: Famous for their routes through Turkiye, north in summer, Africa in winter.
Cranes: Recognizable by their trumpet-like calls during migration.
Northern ducks and geese: From Siberia to temperate wintering grounds.
Small songbirds: Woodcocks, quails—shorter but regular migrations.
Seabirds: The Arctic Tern, the true marathoner, pole to pole, 70,000 km a year.
Turkiye, at the crossroads of three major migration routes, sees around 400 migratory bird species each year. The Bosphorus and the Belen Pass are two of the most famous viewing points.
Although my heart leans toward swallows, it is important not to limit migration to them. Because when we speak of migratory birds, we are speaking of an intercontinental movement involving millions of wings across the sky.
This reminds me that belonging can be seasonal, and sometimes, leaving is another way of staying true.
Migration is a Moving Calendar
Behind the fact that migratory birds are “programmed to migrate” are both biological and environmental factors:
Internal clock: A biological calendar in their brains and hormones, triggered by shortening days.
Genetic heritage: Routes carried almost in their DNA; even young birds can navigate on their first journeys.
Nature’s signs: Sun, stars, the Earth’s magnetic field, even the Milky Way.
Life cycle: A survival strategy—towards warmth and food in winter, back north to breed in spring.
Their internal compass is inevitable. They don’t need to search for purpose or meaning. They simply follow what is written in them, unafraid of leaving their comfort zones for thousands of kilometers. And they do it without expectation, without proof, just being themselves.
Places to Watch
Fields at dusk. River lines at sunset. The edges of villages. Coastal ridges near the sea.
Stand where the horizon opens. Watch where wings cut across the light. Migration is everywhere, if only you pause long enough to see.
A note to My Past Piece on Swallows
In my earlier essay on swallows, I said.
"Behind all these definitions lies something simple: We just want to be ourselves. To fulfill ourselves."
Today, I would add: seasons shift, and so do we. The loops of flight grow tighter, the pauses longer, the flocks braver.
What Migration Teaches My Practice
Rhythm over rush.
Slow progress is still progress. Listening to our own rhythm is what keeps us on track.
Light packing.
Simplify travel. That’s VAGY’s spirit—fewer, better things, chosen with care.
Trust in routes that return.
Every journey carries the promise of return. We stumble upon familiarity in strangers, in streets, in rhythms of daily life elsewhere.
Catch Them, If You Can
So here’s my gentle farewell: before we say goodbye to summer, before August closes its door, may we notice the wings above us.
If you come across a migration moment, share it with us. Tell us where you captured it, how it made you feel, what it stirred inside you.
And let me leave you with this question:
As summer ends, and the birds depart, what place is calling you? Where does August ask you to return—or to begin again?
I’ll leave you with one of my own moments. See you in September—with new beginnings.
with care,
Idalia
