Post Office Swallows

We live in a very small community, and the post office is a place where we will usually see all of our neighbors at some point during the week.  There are new residents at the post office and most all the neighbors are interested.  An enterprising female barn swallow decided that her nest would be in the sheltered entry-way to the post office.  This is the south side, where a glass and wood entry protects postal-goers (and swallows) from the sometimes harsh southwestern winds and rain.  She cleverly opted for a protected area about ten feet off the ground, under the roof of the entry. Of course, her mate assisted in the construction. 
I'm not sure how many people pass by under that nest every day.  Probably close to one hundred.  I don't know how many are aware enough to notice a busy mother swallow passing very close over their heads, to and fro, bringing a seemingly endless supply of bugs to feed her five (five!) hungry youngsters.

But let's start at the beginning.  You may have noticed a barn swallow in your life, busily carrying mud daubs to a chosen nesting spot on your property.  Sometimes, the chosen places are just not meant to be.  Over a front door, for instance, where the droppings would surely become a problem.  Swallows are persistently optimistic though, and if discouraged from one spot, will quickly opt for another.
This male spent time wooing the female, flying graceful  arcs to impress her, then landing close by so that they could rub heads and necks and gently preen each other, all the while making soft, churring sounds of love.
That out of the way, this mother and father swallow brought mud from a nearby pathway, mixed with bits of grass, and constructed a sturdy nest above the entryway.  After mating, the female then laid and brooded, in this case, five white eggs with delicate brown spots.  She incubated her eggs from 17 to about 23 days.  This can be a risky time.  Vulnerable mother on eggs, not really out of reach of some who are too curious or wish them harm.  A long stick, or a kid hoisted up on a bicycle pedal: it wouldn't be hard to destroy the nest.  But the five eggs hatched, then the oblivious, noisy cheeping chicks began to beg.  Tiny black heads with large bills outlined in white, leaning over the nest, seeming to implore all who pass below for a hand out.  If anyone stops to admire, however, cautious silence ensues.  The chicks will stay in the nest for about 20 days before fledging.  The chicks are 'altricial', which means that they are helpless little scrotum-like blobs for several days.  Think of a chicken chick, which is 'precocial':  that chick is up and about from the time he leaves the shell. These are the two major ways birds greet the world.
Anyway.  There is nothing quiet about a barn swallow nest.  Chicks beg noisily and parents cheep loudly as they leave again and again on  forays.  As I stand and admire the chicks who now peer curiously over their ledge at all the coming and going, I realize that some folks just don't see them.  I point, say "Look, swallow babies!"  Some stop to admire, some just side-step around me, heads down.  Maybe the weight of worries and stress make it too hard to stop and admire wild things right in our midst.  I tend to think that stopping and admiring is the cure.
So far, so good.  They probably have another week till they fledge.  I'll keep you posted.