“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.
