Tag: Brant Lake

Time to Fly

I have occasionally pondered who was happier, the swallows who observed their hatchlings leave the garage or the farmer who could restore the bespotted Model T to its prestige antique form. But, one season, on the day of departure the mother barn swallow encountered a dilemma—call it the case of the reluctant baby. At a…

barnswallows

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The Lonely Loon

They were proud parents, a pair of loons, a silhouette in the blue sky, heads breaching the surface, the black and white pattern draped over their backs like a geometric blanket. And, every spring, these loons would glide by the point where I live, so close as to be swallowed by the shade from our…

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