Hungry brood

In stark contrast to the lazy seals at Brown's Bay, just hanging around waiting for their free fish, a colony of swallows were hard at work. Even the chicks, if you can call screaming for food "work".

One parent stopped to check us out, making sure we weren't coming any closer.

Almost, but not quite, ready to go out and catch their own bugs.

"Mommy, I'm starving!"

Still wearing those fluffy pinfeathers.

This nest looks empty, but there was still a parent guarding it.

The swallow nesting season starts in May; this is probably the second brood for these pairs. The female lays 4 or 5 eggs and I counted 4 chicks in the nest on the light fixture. Both parents were coming and going with beaks full of mosquitoes while the youngsters jostled for position, beaks wide open. They reminded me of human teenagers staring into a full fridge and complaining "there's nothing to eat here!" 

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Haciendo contraste con las focas flojas en Brown's Bay, las que tranquilamente esperaban su pescado regalado, las golondrinas aprovechaban cada momento, diligentes, cazando insectos sobre el agua y trayéndolos a su cria, también muy activos, esta actividad consistiendo en asomarse al borde de su nido, gritando, gritando.

1. Una golondrina se detiene un momento para asegurarse que nosotras no nos podríamos llegar más cerca a su nido, construido arriba del agua entre el muelle y la casa.
2. Los pajaritos están casi listos para echarse a volar y buscar su propia comida.
3. "¡Mamá, apúrate, que me muero de hambre!"
4. Todavía tienen las plumas desarregladas.
5. Este nido parece estar vacío, pero le seguía cuidando una golondrina.

La temporada de anidar empieza en mayo, y esta será la segunda cria para estas parejas. La hembra pone cuatro o cinco huevos, y yo conté cuatro pajaritos en el nido construido en el farol. Los adultos iban y venían con los picos llenos de insectos, mientras que los chicos se empujaban entre sí, con las bocas abiertas a lo máximo. Me hacían recordar los adolescentes humanos mirando un refrigerador lleno, y quejándose porque "¡Aquí no hay nada para comer!"

Basket of babies

I was standing on the fuel barge at Brown's Bay, watching a kayaker over against the cliffs when a swallow buzzed me, so close I felt the breeze of his wings. Startled, I turned to watch him. He circled, then sped back towards me again, this time missing me by a couple of feet.

He must have a nest near here, I thought, and started to move away, looking down at my feet first; footing can be dangerous at the back side of a barge, with ropes and ridges and gaps and no fencing. And there, underfoot, was a mass of bird droppings. Directly above me, a few inches away, there was the nest. No wonder the parent was upset!

Swallow's nest, a neat little basket of babies.

That's the tail of one of the parents. The other one was still worried about me.

I moved to the far end of the barge and waited, hoping the parent would come back to the nest, but he waited me out, and I couldn't get farther away without swimming.

I left and walked down the docks instead. At a floating office (fishing charters, I think) now closed, I found another nest, this one with chicks big enough to peek over the edge. Noisy chicks; I heard them before I saw the nest.

Waiting for mom and dad with the catch of the afternoon.

This pair of swallows was more relaxed, maybe because the fuel barge is beside the restaurant and the main docks, where there are 'way too many people. Down here, one swallow sat and watched me from a distance, while the other went to feed the hungry chicks.

Swallow, proudly proclaiming he's a White Wolf. I had left the office by then, and was back on the docks.

Hungry, hungry!

Outside the warming room near the entrance to Reifel Island Migratory Bird Sanctuary, a pair of barn swallows is raising their brood. Two weeks ago, the chicks were feathering out, and - so they claimed - half-starved.

Laser-bright mouth, "Put food here!" it says. But Ma and Pa Swallow are taking a short break.

I noticed that, although the youngsters seemed to be yelling, and I was only a few feet away, I couldn't hear anything. It may be that while the parents were resting, the chicks were only practicing their gape, or that their cry was beyond the range of my aging ears. Audubon has a recording of the chicks' begging cry, here. (I can hear this fine, even at the lowest volume.)

"Hello?"

Two chicks, two parents.

Chin feathers like one of those rubberized hairbrushes. 

They grow quickly; by now, they'll be trying out their wings.