We have two flocks of barn swallows that nest each spring and summer in our triple deck parking garage across the street.  One flock makes its nests in the second level east side of the garage, and the other on the second level west.  Every winter I find myself anxiously awaiting their arrival, as a signal that spring is near. 

Well…it looks like summer’s end is on the way.  Maybe.  Possibly.  At least, that’s the mixed message I’m getting from the swallows.  It looks now, as though the west end flock has already skedaddled for its South American nesting grounds.  But the east enders are sticking around for now.  They’re still busily darting around the grounds, their noisy chatter still filling their end of the garage.  So someone got the cue to split and someone is still waiting for theirs I reckon.  I wish I knew what it was they’re listening to.  It’s still hot as blazes out there.  You’d never know to be walking out in it, that summer was already throwing out signals that its time is fleeting…