Our baby barn swallows left the nest on Thursday. First flight through the aisle of the stable was described, at best, as "wobbly", and there were frequent pauses while they clung to the walls, or the wires, to re-read a page in the flight manual.
Friday saw a marked improvement in their aerial skills -- although we saw them all crowded together on the hydro line outside the stable, being stuffed full of bugs by Mom and Dad.
Today, they are hunting on their own, still under the watchful eyes of the parents. And still zipping into the barn for a little nap in the nest.
The stable is still full of their twittering calls.
All our swallows will gather together and leave us in about another two weeks. The stable will be a quieter place without their cheerful voices, reminding us that it truly is summer. When the skies begin to empty, autumn is on the way.
If you unplug from your ipods and listen, you can hear the birds singing to you about the seasons, their successes and failures, and their plans for the future. We should spend more time listening.
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