We have a year with unusually heavy rain. The rain is accompanied by several hail storms.  The roof is beat to pieces. The insurance company says we need a new roof. But before we can put on a new roof the boss determines that we have to paint the trim. Well, while we are at it, we should paint the entire thing. I sit quite and passive mentally watching the money meter run full blast.

Then the process begins, and those that suffer the most are the poor little Hirundo rusticas. Every year around the first of April our colony of barn swallows reappear and this time, as a result of painting, they came home to no houses. It seems that in the process of painting the nests had to go, another unintended consequence.

While many people have no love for the lowly barn swallow, I have a deep appreciation for these little birds and look forward to their return. I know many people who think that barn swallows are a nuisance, and their droppings can certainly be messy, especially after three or four babies hatch in each nest. However, I just put recycled aluminum trays under the nest and figure it is just one more source of organic fertilizer for the garden.

In past years we have had as many as a dozen nesting pairs. While this year a number of birds arrived, only three pair stayed around long enough to build new homes. For awhile I was worried that they too might move on, but after sitting perplexed for a week or so they got busy.

Barn swallows migrate from Mexico and Central America each spring and return in the fall.  They can fly as far as 600 miles in a day. We do not even like to drive that much.

Best of all they eat massive quantities of insects. When we lived in the Dallas-Fort Worth area we tried to attract purple martins for this purpose, but they always seemed to find some other yard more attractive. Obviously, barn swallows are much less selective.

Besides their voracious appetite these guys are very sociable. Each morning we awake to an entire group chorus on the porch outside our bedroom door. In the evening as we sit on the porch, the group pursues insects, flying in no discernable pattern, but always together on the hunt. Each night one of the pair settles down in the nest while the other sits on the top of one of the porch columns keeping watch. Eggs hatch within two weeks so by the Fourth of July our population will increase dramatically. With luck a few more will return next year.

Our city friends always ask, “What do you do in that small town?” It’s hard for them to imagine the enjoyment of sitting on the porch watching the barn swallows, but I tell them it’s like attending the Jeff Davis County Commissioners Court: it’s one of the last cheap thrills – it’s free.

Larry Francell has spent over thirty years in the museum profession. Currently he is director of the Museum of the Big Bend, but prefers porch sitting to work.

This family of barn swallows had one baby that did not want to leave home. His mother kept coaxing him with a tidbit of food just out of his reach but he still would not fly.  He was upset and so was she. It took several hours, but he finally did fly and join his siblings. Even though they are much too big, they all like to come back and sit in the nest and enjoy being babies again. It is so funny—like a failure to launch. (Larry Francell, photos)