There was a lot of scolding going on in the Oysterville Church yesterday.  It began during the Memorial Day program right when Nyel was reading “In Flanders Field.”  The door from vestibule to the main part of the church was slightly ajar and those of us in the rear pews could hardly hear the words to that lovely old poem.

Competing with Nyel (and later with the Bayside Singers) were two very indignant swallows.  Sometime previously, perhaps over the weekend, someone had left the entry door open long enough… Now, Mr. and Mrs. Barn Swallow had begun their nest just above the vestibule window and they were letting us all know that the church was currently off limits to the rest of us.

After the morning’s ceremonies were over – the cannon had been fired and the last of the left-overs from coffee-at-the-schoolhouse had been packed away – I noticed that the church door was still open.  In fact, both of the double doors were open wide.  When I went over to close them, Mr. Swallow scolded me roundly from his perch on the bell rope.  He was obviously keeping close watch over the construction site a few feet to his north.

That bell rope has been knotted so that it is out of reach of tourists. Fortunately, there weren’t any in the area as I stood there talking to the immovable bird.  He cheep-cheep-cheeped at me as I tried to explain that the inside of the church, though perhaps barn-like to him, was not an appropriate place for a nest.  He was unflappable.  Literally.  So I went off to the American Legion sponsored lunch at the Heritage Museum.

Later, apparently during a work break, Nyel found the vestibule empty of birds and firmly closed the doors.  I felt vaguely sorry for them.  And more than vaguely annoyed at whoever had left the door open in the first place.  What were they – born in a barn?