July 29th 2011 Tim Candler
This year in the barn, two Barn
Swallows raised seven young from two broods. And oddly enough
there are nine maturing Wax Gourds out there in the Vegetable Garden.
Then this morning I counted eighteen Barn Swallows along the electric
line. They were quite silent and they were staring into the
horizon. Which means there is gathering of the like minded, and
thoughts of distant places.
It's early though. They still pop in
and out of the barn, as though they had forgotten something.
They'll sit around nattering. For a week they might even disappear
altogether. And because my bird identification skills are so
filled with assumptions, there is always chance the Barn Swallows I see
are something else. Chipping Sparrows, or Little Owls, perhaps
But I will argue that all
creatures that raise their children share essentially the same emotional
framework. Which is why the little ones are so adorable.
However, creatures that drop a hundred thousand eggs then disappear, have
what I imagine is a more ancient understanding. They will meet
for the occasional pleasure or during territorial dispute, otherwise they
prefer to ignore each other as much as they possibly can.
Difficult sometimes to wonder where
Vegetables are. But wrong to think of them as being completely without
character. And equally wrong to leap from the assumption that a
Vegetable has no understanding whatsoever.