Saturday, May 12, 2018

"It's Unjust. Bird Lives Matter" - Wisdom from the Kid in CNY (Making Me Feel Worse Than I Already Do)

I often think fondly of the month I spent in Rochester, Vermont, in a farm house while studying at the Bread Loaf School of English. I was given a teacher scholarship and with my funds, I invested in a summer home - a huge space set in the remote landscape of Vermont mountains - where my best friends quickly became a nesting pair of Swallows who attacked me as I moved my laundry baskets into the home.

I was all alone, so their nesting rituals became my own and I was mesmerized by the labor, dedication, and incessant love of the mother swallow as she laid her eggs and fed her young. The male simply protected the territory from the phone wires that led to the house.

That mother was fierce. She never stopped and she lived her life to first lay the eggs and then to find bugs and worms to feed her young. I watched over a series of weeks as they grew bigger and, eventually, she invested her time in teaching them to fly. I remember she had one negligent fledgling who didn't want to leave the next. I watched he coach the last bird, encourage it to fly, and eventually she was successful. When she realized it wasn't going to return, she eventually climbed into the mud nest and slept for 3 days. I thought she was dead, but she merely rested to catch up on much necessary sleep from feeding her young.

Last night, a friend asked me to remove a nest from a light outside her home. It was year two and she simply couldn't take another year of being attacked as she exited her home and all the bird crap on her car. I was reluctant. I love swallows, but I read online that the best time is to remove the mud nest before the eggs are actually laid. With help, I was able to get the nest down, but there were no birds around, so I felt like it was okay. I hung ribbons and duct tape on the light fixture in hope the birds wouldn't return. As I did, however, the mother came back and she flew by to see what I was doing.

I felt terrible and like I betrayed my naturalist tendencies. I promised The Great Whatever that I would build a pole with a nesting area on it somewhere near the house so the swallows might reconsider their abode. Currently, my own abode - Mt. Pleasant - has its share of sparrow nests, mice caves, ant hills, and Carpenter Bee holes. I share my space with Mother Nature and I understand that at some point, we humans have to take charge.

Still, I'm feeling somewhat bad. Nature is beautiful and we should learn to live side by side with the beautiful creatures that grace our homes. But I get it.

I'm sure my dreams are going to be frantic for some time now. I will try to listen to what they're telling me.

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