Bird on a wire shows us we’re not all that different
Farming can be an exhausting vocation, physically and mentally. Most of us live at work and because a lot of that work is subject to the whims of Mother Nature, the hours can be brutal. For some reason, breech births are ten times more likely to occur at 3 am than any other hour, rain is ten times more likely to fall during seeding and harvesting than at any time in between when the crop really needs it, and if that tired old spreader chain hasn’t already broken, you just know in your gut you’ll be forking off a full load sometime soon. We are pretty much resigned to all of this. It is, after all, the nature of the beast and we keep plugging away because Mother Nature has blessed us with enough optimism to suppose it will all be better next time around.
Satisfaction in what we do
There might not be much that any of us can do about the big picture: trade agreements, fertilizer prices and weather that never used to be like this. What we can do is find some solace and satisfaction in what we do and where we do it. We were doing just that here a few days ago. Tired out after a string of long hot days and late nights (a sick cow on the mend in the barn and the last of the first cut hay stacked in the mow), we were sitting on the porch watching the evening sunlight climb up the mountainside. A family of swallows assembled on the telephone wire 20 feet in front of us: the parents on either end with four newly fledged offspring between them.
The fluffy youngsters looked bigger than their parents. They perched shoulder-to-shoulder with their beaks wide open waiting for mom or dad to shove supper in. One of the adults made a short flight, dipping and turning erratically, the way swallows do.
The young birds became hyper excited as the parent returned but instead of having a bug stuffed down its throat, one of the youngsters was bowled right off the wire.
Learning to fly
Forced into frantic flight and protesting loudly, the youngster was harried briefly by the adult before it was allowed to return to the wire. As soon as one parent landed, the other took off and returned to knock one of the others off its perch and repeat the short airborne attack. The young birds were knocked off one by one until each had a turn. The adults just kept at it.
We were puzzled and wondered if the parents had finally snapped after weeks of setting and feeding. Could this be an avian version of Mommy Dearest playing out before our very eyes? As we watched intently, it dawned on us what was really going on. As each baby was bowled off the wire, squawking angrily and forced to fly, the parent would fly along side and pop a bug into its mouth, thereby teaching junior to feed on the wing: a life lesson that had been passed down in just this fashion for millennia. One of those same young swallows would no doubt pass on to their own offspring on some future summer evening.
It all made me thankful to be here.
Swallows vs humans
To watch the swallows and understand that in some respects we’re not all that much different. Being knocked off the wire is as much a part of life for people as it is for swallows. Properly nurtured and equipped with the necessary skills, our offspring should be able to take flight – confident, self reliant and resourceful.
For all their trials, and the often overwhelming work that goes on there, our farms and ranches are living classrooms where our kids are surrounded in the life lessons that will stay with them forever.
Consider two kids at 11:30 at night: one sweat soaked, covered with hay dust and thankful that the last load of hay beat the rain storm into the barn, the other fist pumping in a suburban basement because he’s just mugged an old age pensioner and stolen his Escalade playing Grand Theft Auto.
When the time comes for them to be knocked off the wire and spread their wings, my money will be on the kid chucking bales. And the place where he learned to do that!
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