“Among birds, the ones that are tame protect their young by building on the housetops, and the others, by building in precipitous chasms and in holes and tops of trees, hatch the nestlings and ward off the intruder. If they are not able to keep the intruder away, they do what they can to help their young by flying in circles around them in the anguish of love, warning them with their own calls.” (4 Maccabees 14:15-17)
As spring gave way to summer, the swallows’ building project progressed on schedule and under budget. The nests, anchored on front and back of our house, has housed the youngsters in their welcome to the world.
(our winged neighbors were camera-shy)
Aidan and I—dog and I—have experienced the anguish of their love. Straying too close to the fuzzy critters’ hideout, a circling of chirping has been the result. When that failed, chirping has become a more intense and less distant affair. Aidan, especially while lying on the front porch (or even more menacingly, in the front yard), has been oblivious to the threat he poses. He’s been the target of dive bombing, only a few inches above his head.
The things we do for love.