Nesting

In the spring of this year a pair of swallows made a mud nest in one corner of our porch.  We have loads of them in the barn and I had read somewhere that the mud nests can rot the wood and that the nests should be taken down to prevent the imminent demise of the barn.  Growing up, we spent a few weeks every summer in Northern Minnesota and one of my fondest memories is taking the boat from one lake to the other and traveling under the bridge that spanned the small passage between them.  The entirety of the underside of the bridge was covered in swallow nests, and we passed so close to them that you could see little heads poking out of the nests.  Whether due to my nostalgia or the plain meanness of knocking down a nest, I left the swallow's home intact.  It seemed like a good idea at the time.  A couple of days ago I moved one of my plants that was sitting under the nest and...

I was thinking maybe this wasn't the best idea because I now I have a crap-load (pun intended) of swallow poop to clean off my porch. My nostalgia had worn off. While I wasn't going to take the nest down, I was still going to complain about it.

But then last night I came onto the porch and I was greeted by a sight that made the huge pile of poop seem insignificant:

Three babies, looking about ready to leave the nest, just sitting on the edge.  They were so still they looked like fake birds. Seriously. I took pictures for a good five minutes and they didn't move a muscle until their mother flew by and then they went nuts.  It's pretty cool. I don't even feel like complaining about the pile of poop anymore.