The Barn Swallows’ Picnic Lunch

Come spring, our food forest is flourishing. Delicate, fragrant blossoms from March have since transformed, gifting us with tiny apples, apricots, almonds, plums, and juicy mulberries. Because the Torah halacha of orla proscribes no eating of the fruit for the first three years of a tree’s planting, we look at this fruit with great anticipation but cannot enjoy it. The next Tu B’Shvat, a holiday that will marks our trees’ third birthday, will be an invitation to finally taste the sweet bounty of the fruit. In the meantime, it is a birds’ banquet here!

Spring is also nesting season and we have three bird nests with peeping chicks. There are two barn swallow nests on our back porch and one sparrow nest on our front porch. In one nest, the barn swallow parents swoop in with food, three babies’ mouths open wide, gobble down bird pablum, then chirp for more. It is a demanding task to be a barn swallow parent, their pirouetting performance continuing all day long. 

Today, we came back from a walk and noticed that this nest was empty. We were forlorn and started searching for the babies. Looking up, we saw all three perched in a row on a branch of our bay tree. The mother swooped onto the tree deliver a picnic lunch, then off she went to bring them dessert. To add stress to the situation, we have a very sneaky cat called Olive and are relieved when the babies safely return to their nest at night.

Aside from a cacophony of birds, we also observe that our new food forest is attracting many other new species. Turtles nibble on the sweet peas, chameleons perch on flower stalks, and there has recently been a fat hedgehog siting. (The porcupines still want in and their banishment is an ongoing saga.)

The pond we built has added yet another natural transformation within the food forest. We simply dug a hole, lined it, filled it with water, local rocks, goldfish, and reeds from the Kinneret, then sunk a few pots of lilies and water hyacinths. 

This pond may be small but it is a hub of life. Tadpoles dart among the fish and frogs sun on the rocks and flower stalks. There are tiny bright green frogs and huge brown ones and despite the pond’s tiny size, everyone seems to get along. 

The frogs also perch in our water system cabinet and one recently hopped across my kitchen floor. How these frogs traveled across this parched and rocky terrain to find our tiny pool is a mystery. Were the eggs somehow petrified for thousands of years, waiting for us to move in and dig a pond? Nature is mysterious and miraculous. 

Along with building the pond, we set up a splash pool for us, a place to cool off after working hard in the garden. In accordance with our permaculture theme, we want clean, healthy water for ourselves and the environment, so this pool cannot have chlorine or salt. Birds will be able to safely drink from it and maybe a thrill-seeking frog will scale the heights of the walls to enjoy a dunk. And when we empty the pool, we can use the water for thirsty trees. 

Our solution to keep the water clean is a pump and a filter. Turns out that the local pet store, aside from selling budgies and goldfish, happens to specialize in pumps. Amir has been spending quite a bit of time there and has since discovered that this store, located in a tiny town in northern Israel, happens to be a microcosm of the country. 

Walking in past the bunnies and the finches, there is a tefillin stand. Here, a Chabadnik can easily put tefillin on any male who walks in to buy dog food. The stand is complete with tefillin and a siddur, but when I was there, the tefillin guy was absent. Guess he was out praying. Hanging out there, Amir soon became friendly with the pet store owners, a secular father and son who happen to have that tefillin stand right at the front door near the bunny rabbits. 

The owners take their work and safety very seriously as both are decked out with a large firearm tucked into a belt. He watched them tenderly pick out a goldfish for a young Hareidi boy, lovingly placing it into a bag, the side arm sticking out from their back. These are sabras, Israelis who are tender on the inside while tough on the outside.

Amir installed the much anticipated pump with great flourish. It did not work. He called his buddies at the pet store and the young owner with the firearm did a house call here after work. In most other places in the world, a store manager would set up an appointment for a technician to come. But this is Israel and it was erev Shabbat. The store was shut tight along with the tefillin stand and the goldfish and the bunnies and the finches. The owner arrived, fixed the pump, and wished us Shabbat Shalom.

The water is now circulating in our tiny pool. Barn swallows swoop over it, delivering food to their young. A pair of mynah birds swagger across the deck searching for the cat food bowl, and as for Olive, where is that darned cat?