Spring. The swallows are back. I was in the garage yesterday and realized, as I was getting into the car that there was a mighty racket in the air above me. My mind focused on what I was hearing, and there they were. Barn swallows checking out the old nest above me. We might get another cold snap, but winter is officially on the way out.

This marks the thirteenth year of our feathered friends calling our porches home. I’ve always, or mostly enjoyed our little birds. Mostly because they leave mighty piles of poop on the ground below them or on anything between them and the ground. Always, because I like watching them tend their nests and raise their young. It seems nice to be part of this phase of the little bird’s life. Although, it would be fun to see them during their vacation days in South America.

I do wonder what they do during their off time. I imagine its normal stuff. Chatter among themselves, Eat bugs. Lie abut in the sun. Be happy there are no yapping mouths to feed. There’s probably a study somewhere that I could read, but it’s more fun just to imagine how they act when the kids are grown, and they have time to themselves before they get on the road to do it all over again for another generation up on the porches of Texas.

John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver’s Tale