I don't think I ever wrote about our run-in with the barn swallows last year.
In the fall of 2013 we nailed this bird house to a telephone poll in the back of the vegetable garden:
The following Spring we were very pleased to notice that some barn swallows took residence there. The birds have shiny blue feathers on their wings and when they fly they look like paper airplanes. As I dug and planted directly beneath their little house, I watched as they flew back and forth with grubs and bits of this-and-that for the nest inside.
Then all of a sudden - overnight, quite literally - as I walked toward the veggie garden this beautiful bird let out a loud squawk - just in time for me to look up and see it's little body darting quickly toward my face. I squealed, ducked and looked back in surprise - only to see it changing trajectory to make another attempt to charge at me again.
This bird was making it very clear to me that I was not to set a foot anywhere near its nest again - which was a problem because I had a lot of work left to do in the veggie patch. My family laughed at me as I searched our house for a hockey helmet. Before you judge me for being overly dramatic, take a moment to read this story that I discovered after a quick Google search. It was written by a birdwatcher who was called to investigate a similar situation. This was my favourite part: "A Barn Swallow was flying toward me, on a collision course. To say I flinched would be an understatement. I backed up so fast I nearly fell backward through the screen door. The bird gauged my movement perfectly and gained on me even during the moment of my reflexive retreat [...] I heard Joey laughing, and Mary asked me if I was all right."
I avoided the garden for a few days and then we hosted a sleep-away camp for several children. They didn't know about the family of swallows and I didn't tell them. I think the sheer noise and overwhelming number of people that hung around must have finally convinced the birds that we meant them no harm and they relaxed around us after that.
So... on to this year. They came back. I wasn't sure what to expect. As before, they seemed Ok with me putzing around in early Spring but I kept a watchful eye knowing their babies would be hatching soon. And then one day I heard their little squawking noises but no head-diving occurred. These birds remember us. So for several days I've had the privilege of watching them up close, both parents working tirelessly to bring food to fill those creepy wide-open hungry little mouths while fiercely taking on any other bird that comes too close. And then, this morning I spotted one of the babies standing on top of its wooden house, trying to muster up the courage to fly:
I watched for a very long time. Long enough to realize I had time to go and fetch my camera. The adults watched me carefully but left me alone as they went about their business, and I never did see the little one take flight - I had business to take care of myself.
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