Somebody has evidently called out the Barn Swallow brigade. Over a dozen spent a good half hour swooping and nearly crashing into each other, the trailer, me, a butterfly that got caught up in the fracas...
I've officially been here for 30 years now, and have had Barn Swallows since day one, in the barn, in the culvert, on the front porch, nesting, napping, tending their eggs, but I've never seen an aerial display equal to the feats they put on. Some would go high and fly straight, and I'd think, okay, they're leaving now. Then back three would come, and four to eight would fly tightly around the roof and sides of the trailer. I'd swear several were going to collide, but at the very last possible instant one, but ONLY ONE, would swerve. ESP? Class/age consciousness?
The wildest combo involved five between the dwarf peach and the front side of the trailer. Two fled down the roof slant from the back side, one came around the corner to the east, one low and one high around the western corner, and the little fellow who had been joyfully and singly doing loops and twirls in that area right in front of my face all headed for the same spot simultaneously. Boy, was that something to see! Nobody touched, of course, but just the precision of the passes was awe-inspiring.
Toward the end, one kept parking on the edge of the roof. I have no way of knowing if it was the same one each time. Grand Marshall of the parade? Sitting out this dance? Catching its breath? Others constantly swooped by. General marshalling the troops?
What on earth were they doing? An aerobatics convention? A street fair? Dinner on the house? A wife swap? Courting? Flight lessons for the new fledgelings? Celebrating 30 years?
I got dizzy just watching.