Each Spring, barn swallows quietly return to nest boxes under our house. They are family oriented and raise several clutches of babies. The returning parents bring along their adult children who help in building the nest, sitting on the eggs, and feeding the hatchlings. As August arrived, I realized the last babies of the third clutch were fledging. All four of them were feathered out and sitting on the edge of the nest. Then, to my utter delight, one of life’s wonderful little dramas unfolded before my eyes.
The babies were lined up with the first and fourth birds on the edge of the boxes and the second and third babies with their tails up against the wall. As an adult barn swallow whizzed by my head – feeding time. It flew in and gave baby number one a bug meal. As soon as he scarfed down the bug, the adult flew, and baby followed. He FLEW – just a short distance to the wood rack – but he flew. As baby number one sat wide-eyed and chest heaving, an adult bird flew in and gave baby number four a bug meal and the two of them flew a short way to the wood rack where baby four perched – amazed at himself.
Then it clicked – I was witnessing flying lessons! Another adult bird came in and fed baby number two – and they flew off a short distance. Now only baby three was left in the nest. Another adult bird flew up, perched on the nest and offered a nice grasshopper to the baby bird. Baby three – the smallest bird – did not step toward the edge of the box, though the adult bird teased and coaxed. Instead, this baby acted like a spoiled brat, “I’m not going to fly, and you can’t make me.” The adult bird again offered the grasshopper and chided him. Its only response was to huddle even closer to the wall. Getting that response, the adult barn swallow ate the grasshopper and it, and the balance of the birds flew off on a bug catching seminar.
As the birds left in search of the perfect “sky buffet,” I stood there assimilating what I just witnessed – our barn swallows making flight plans.
