I’m pretty out there as liking birds. Their imagery, plumage, symbolism. You name it. I like birdy everything.
That’s why my ears pricked up leaving work the other day. Two women were walking ahead of me and they were commenting with disgust about bird droppings on the ground, saying someone should do something about it, that it was gross.
As they stepped along, looking down at the ground and “tsking” about the mess I registered something. I registered how different I was from those ladies, as the mess didn’t bother me. I wear shoes so I don’t step directly in such things. It also was the last thing I would have noticed, stepping outside into glorious sunshine and a light breeze. Lastly, while they were looking and putting down, I was looking up. This is what I saw:
Barn swallows are a species at risk in Ontario. Their habitats are disappearing and their nests are constantly knocked down by people who can’t stand mess. I actually think they look kind of sheepish. Like they wish no one could see them or their messy nest area. I also think they look new and full of swooping promise.
I’ll take the nest and the mess. I will also continue looking up instead of down. It’s a much better view.