The Heartwarming and Heartbreaking Story of Billy Gene and Billie Jean, Our Nesting Pair of Northern Rough-winged Swallows

While birding, we typically only get to see a snippet of a bird’s life. In the spring of 2018, however, we had the privilege of observing a pair of Northern Rough-winged Swallows for two months while they nested in our dryer vent. Our keen interest grew into emotional investment as we watched the course of their nesting cycle unfold. But as uplifting as this intimate view was for us, the story ultimately ended in heartbreak.
 
On May 7, while curled up reading on the couch, we were surprised to hear the bjjrrt-bjjrrt-bjjrrt of a Northern Rough-winged Swallow wafting in through the open window – kind of like this:

We rushed out to the balcony and watched as two repeatedly circled over the downstairs deck, sometimes coming within a couple feet of us near eye level. What a treat! We regularly saw Violet-green Swallows from our deck, but never Northern Rough-wingeds.
 
The following week, we again noticed some swallow action outside and went to the balcony for a better look – a pair of Northern Rough-wingeds and a pair of Violet-greens! Soon, all four swallows perched on our deck railing and treated us to amazing looks.

 
Almost two weeks later, the pair of Northern Rough-winged Swallows reappeared while we lounged on the deck. We watched them for half an hour as they perched quietly on the railing, occasionally opening their bills wide. They amazed us with how comfortable they seemed as we sat only 10 feet away. We began to wonder if they were perhaps nesting nearby.

 
After such prolonged looks at the pair, we noticed a slight difference in head shape between the two individuals. One had a fluffy, peaked head with a cottonball texture.

 
The other had a silky-smooth, shiny, rounded head.

 
Having spent such quality time with the pair, we decided the next logical step was to name them. After some research, we learned it isn’t easy to discern between males and females, so we settled on Billy Gene and Billie Jean. That way, we’d always be correct when talking about one or the other.
 
Once the pair left, we searched around for possible burrows for nesting. We eventually realized a good candidate was the dryer vent hole above our deck.
 
Three days later, we heard a familiar bjjrrt-bjjrrt-bjjrrt from in front of the house. Peaked-Head was on the telephone wire vocalizing while Rounded-Head sifted through pieces of dried grass below. After choosing a few strands, they took off together over the top of our house. Though they disappeared from sight, we suspected they only made it as far as the deck. Later, we discovered a telling clump of dried grass directly below the dryer vent. Our suspicions were confirmed!
 
After exchanging high-fives, we realized we weren’t going to be using our dryer for a while. Luckily, it was spring and we’d planned on putting up a clothes line anyway!
 
We researched and learned that material-collecting and nest-building are primarily performed by the female of a pair. So, the mystery was solved – Peaked-Head was Mr. Billy Gene and Rounded-Head was Mrs. Billie Jean!
 
The next day, the pair returned and we snapped this photo of Billie Jean with nesting material. Over the next hour, Billy Gene diligently executed his duty as sentry, keeping a close eye on his partner and their surroundings as Billie Jean repeatedly deposited collected material into the vent.

 
One week later, Billy Gene circled above us on the deck, eventually perching on the empty feeder pole. Almost 10 minutes passed with no sign of Billie Jean, until she suddenly popped out of the vent and whooshed by, two feet from our heads!
 
The pair flew off together. Unable to help ourselves, we took the opportunity to reach up and blindly snap a photo from the entrance to the vent. We were overjoyed to see the first egg – exactly one month after we saw the pair for the first time!

 
We spent many days on the deck over the following few weeks. At first, we were concerned they might be bothered by us now that they were expecting. But, amid the hustle and bustle of the pair, it was obvious they still didn’t mind our presence. We ooh-ed and ahh-ed when Billy Gene zipped around in circles and Billie Jean whizzed by our heads, catapulting in and out of the vent hole like a fighter pilot.
 
On June 26, we found half of a broken eggshell on the deck – a successful hatching!

 
The action increased noticeably after finding the eggshell. The parents took turns zooming into the nest with a bug only to zoom back out moments later to retrieve the next meal. We noticed they often exited carrying a small white object – a fecal sac!
 
After a few days of this hectic schedule, we heard the nestlings vocalizing each time a parent entered the nest.

 
Gauging by the growing cacophony of nestling begging, they seemed to be getting stronger. The prospect of fledglings eventually emerging from the vent made us giddy with anticipation.
 
However, a short time later, disaster struck.
 
On July 3, seven days after we found the broken eggshell, we watched Billy Gene approach the vent with food, peer in without entering, vocalize, then fly out of sight. We immediately realized no begging calls emanated from the nest when he approached. Our concerns were only reinforced by the fact that Billie Jean was nowhere to be seen.
 
As the afternoon wore on, Billy Gene repeatedly perched 10 feet from the nest with food in his bill. During each visit, he’d swivel his head constantly and vocalize. Eventually, he’d swallow the bug, fly off, disappear for several minutes, and return with a new bug. This went on for the duration of the afternoon. Starting to panic, we tried to hold out hope that by some miracle Billie Jean would return and the sweet sound of nestling chatter would ring out once again.

The next morning, Billy Gene returned, seemingly determined to stand vigil. Each time he appeared, waiting with food in his bill, our hearts broke a little further. It was as if he knew something was terribly wrong, but was at a loss as to how to proceed.
 
On the morning of July 5, there was no sign of Billy Gene. Reluctantly, we cleared out the vent that afternoon and discovered five deceased nestlings intertwined within the nest. We set the nest on the deck railing and continued to clean. Several minutes later, we were surprised when Billy Gene appeared. He circled the deck several times, coming within feet of the nest and his dead young. He let out a few bjjrrt-bjjrrt-bjjrrt-s mid-flight and flew off. That was the last time we ever saw him.
 
It may be impossible to say Billy Gene was grieving, but to say we were heartbroken watching him is an understatement.
 
What happened to Billie Jean remains a mystery. Despite Billy Gene’s diligence with his part of the constant feeding ritual, we speculate the nestlings perished due to their mother’s absence.
 
We’d never become so attached to individual birds before. That this pair felt safe enough to choose our house to raise young was an immense honor for us. Over those two months, we spent hours watching them tirelessly prepare for and care for their brood. The amount of joy Billie Jean and Billy Gene gave us is immeasurable.
 
In the midst of our grief, we went kayaking with friends on the Russian River. The river buzzed with life in all directions. At every bend, we encountered fledgling swallows sitting patiently on skinny branches over the river, waiting to be fed.

Though it was sad to think of what could have been at our house, the sight of so many successful broods heartened us. It helped us zoom out to a larger perspective on the nature of life and appreciate the intimate view into nature these swallows granted us.
 
We miss you, Billy Gene and Billie Jean.