A Safe Space

June 16, 2024

Sunrise, June 11, 2024

It’s early morning in the marina, the sun has just risen. People are putting boats and kayaks into the lake and I am walking along the marina dock saying hello to the purple martins and barn swallows. As I walk through the main gate, I pause to look at a tree swallow sitting on the railing.

Tree Swallow

Mr. tree swallow then begins to fly around my head, the way he would if I was too close to his nest. I look around and I cannot for the life of me figure out where his nest might be. I’m literally standing under the main gate, the gate every person must pass through to enter the marina dock. The barn swallows have nests up under the slip canopies, about ten feet away, but they don’t seem bothered by me. Tree swallows nest in cavities and I don’t see anything that appears to be a likely place for a tree swallow nest.

Tree swallow on a mission to protect his nest, though I can’t see it.

I don’t want to stress the swallow so I walk around the corner. The tree swallow stops flying around my head and lands on the upper railing. He is still staring at me and I am still curious. What is he up to?

Just as I’m wondering, a female tree swallow flies in and begins chattering at the male. There are other birds in the area including starlings, house sparrows, barn swallows and purple martins. Mr. tree swallow doesn’t appear to be happy with their presence if they land on top of the gate either. It definitely isn’t just me.

Mrs. tree swallow had something to say.

Both swallows flutter around a bit and then the conversation gets more animated. I don’t know if this is the tree swallow equivalent of a marital spat or if this is just how their conversations go, but she definitely looked like she wanted him to do something he wasn’t doing - and he seemed frustrated by it.

I walked further up the ramp and turned back around. Mrs. tree swallow fluttered over to the side of the pole that holds the top of the gate, and that’s when I saw the “nest cavity”. I had never noticed that the pole was open on the end, and I would never have guessed they would nest IN the pole! Shortly after I took this photo, Mrs. tree swallow disappeared into the pole.

Is this a good place for a nest?

Given the chosen location, they are going to have to deal with foot traffic all day long. Mrs. tree swallow didn’t seem bothered by it, but I had some compassion for the male tree swallow who was taking his job as protector VERY seriously.

A dad’s job is hard enough when his mate doesn’t choose a high-traffic location.

I suppose for birds, as for humans, sometimes our choice of “nesting locations” is limited and we have to make the best out of what we’ve got. One part of us might see a viable environment for nurturing our creative dreams and another might see danger at every turn. The male tree swallow reminds me a lot of my nervous system, flitting about, trying to stay safe, and exhausting myself in the process. I wonder how I connect to that sense of safety the female tree swallow emanates, feeling calm and collected regardless of the chaos outside.

She seemed very comfortable with her choice.

You’ll likely be seeing more of my tree swallow friends, given their chosen location. Meanwhile, in honor of father’s day, here’s a shoutout to some other hard-working dads I witnessed this week:

This fledgling cardinal had a dad flying around behind her, trying to keep her safe and fed. Toddlers are a challenge!

Mr. bluebird was trying to keep tabs on his fledglings too.

One of his three youngsters, in between attempts at catching bugs.

Mr. Red-winged blackbird, taking a break after chasing off some crows.

Grackle dad gathering food, perhaps for youngsters. There are lots of grackles around, they must nest nearby.

Do you suppose it’s a dad and his son? I have no way of knowing, but I do see these two together in the very early mornings.

This robin dad really had his hands full. A five foot black snake climbed up the support pole on my balcony deck and was circling around his nest (which is on the support under the deck). I looked outside to see the robins going crazy and wasn't super excited to see that big snake! Especially when I watched it climb up the handle my sliding glass door and sit on top of the door. (Note: My deck has no stairs, the only way in and out at that moment was to walk under the snake.) It was harrowing for both of us!

Snakes are totally welcome to control the mice and the poppy-mallow eating bunnies, but I let him know the deck needed to be off-limits. So far he hasn’t returned. (I know some of you don’t like snakes so I’m omitting the photos - and video - for now!)

This robin dad really had his hands full.

I do wonder how these birds return to a state of calm after a traumatic event. The robins were unusually skittish for a few days after this event, but two weeks later they seem to have returned to normal. I’d like to follow their lead and learn to help my nervous system return to a place of trust and calm, even when things happen that challenge my feeling of safety.

The youngsters are always fearless. (red-tailed hawk fledgling)

Being a dad is tough, even if your youngsters are capable predators like my red-tailed hawk friend above. My dad still has a hug that can calm my nervous system, no matter what is happening. I’m not sure he knows just how magic his hugs are.

How do you find safety and peace inside?