Passage1
1 My family and i have watched with interest the swallows that, over the years, have sought out a nest attached to the wall underneath the small terrace of our house. they come and go, and we look forward to their return each spring.
2 One day I noticed that the nest had fallen over with the small occupants six fat fledglings covered in good plumage – still inside. My eight year old son arranged an emergency shelter: he put the babies inside a cardboard box, along with bits of cotton wool and a few pieces of the clay from the destroyed nest. When my husband returned home that evening, we considered how we could build a new nest for the swallows.
3 After some animated discussion and without hope of success, we decided to put the baby birds in another deeper cardboard box, together with the clay and soft cotton wool. With a few nails in the wall and a few holes in the improvised nest, the box was attached to the wall with its little occupants inside. We worried that our handling of the tiny chicks had left the odor of humans on them. Would the parents, when they returned, become suspicious, or even reject their young ones?
4 So we waited anxiously. With dawn came the sound of the parents busily going about the job of feeding six hungry birds! They looked after their brood until the fledglings became self-sufficient; only then did they dedicate themselves to fixing up the new nest we had built.
5 Some 22 years later, this nest is still sought out by successive generations of swallows who come and depart – the source of renewed happiness and joy for us.
Passage11 My family and i have watched with interest the swallows that, over the years, have sought out a nest attached to the wall underneath the small terrace of our house. they come and go, and we look forward to their return each spring.2 One day I noticed that the nest had fallen over with the small occupants six fat fledglings covered in good plumage – still inside. My eight year old son arranged an emergency shelter: he put the babies inside a cardboard box, along with bits of cotton wool and a few pieces of the clay from the destroyed nest. When my husband returned home that evening, we considered how we could build a new nest for the swallows.3 After some animated discussion and without hope of success, we decided to put the baby birds in another deeper cardboard box, together with the clay and soft cotton wool. With a few nails in the wall and a few holes in the improvised nest, the box was attached to the wall with its little occupants inside. We worried that our handling of the tiny chicks had left the odor of humans on them. Would the parents, when they returned, become suspicious, or even reject their young ones?4 So we waited anxiously. With dawn came the sound of the parents busily going about the job of feeding six hungry birds! They looked after their brood until the fledglings became self-sufficient; only then did they dedicate themselves to fixing up the new nest we had built.5 Some 22 years later, this nest is still sought out by successive generations of swallows who come and depart – the source of renewed happiness and joy for us.
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