ARISTOTLE CAUTIONED: "One swallow does not a summer make." However, I'd say it's a good start. Swallows are a welcome summertime presence across rural North America. Their zigzag flights are entertaining, and they're chasing down mosquitoes and other insects while they're at it. Gorgeous, cheeky swallows punctuated my childhood summers. Chattering in a row on a telephone wire, they redefined the phrase "party line." I always figured they should take more than a few minutes to rest and gossip, since they'd just flown all the way to our farm from Argentina. But they're restless little characters. Every year, swallows made cup-like nests from mud and grass near the door of the garden shed. We would listen for urgent cheeping, signaling that the little brown-speckled eggs had hatched. More than once, my brothers and I got off the school bus and dashed out to check the nest, only to discover our grandmother had been to visit and had ruthlessly knocked it down with a broom. She considered swallows messy creatures, but we cheered on their rebuilding efforts. Orioles, too, make fabulous nests. If swallows are potters of the avian world, orioles are the weavers. Glimpsing orange and black wings among the willows, we'd hang strands of coloured yarn in the branches, then watch to see the birds snatch them for their craft. How they must treasure their eggs, to lay them in these intricate hammocks of string, straw and horsehair. I didn't discover a nest last year, but we did observe orioles vying with hummingbirds at the syrup feeder. We await another show this year. Less welcome in our yard are magpies, which often raid songbird nests. In spring, my husband tests his tree-climbing prowess and my nerves by scaling the tallest evergreen to dislodge the massive nest magpies build there. Still, magpies abound. They like the dry food I serve our cats, and hover nearby awaiting leftovers. In fact, the clever magpies are the first responders to the dinner call. Are there "good" birds and "bad" ones? Presumably, all have their places. And think how enchanting we'd find magpies if they were rare. We'd marvel at their raucous cries, black and white wings and extravagant tails. Watching a magpie, one can imagine it descending from a pterodactyl. So many nests: big, imposing ones atop the tallest trees, clay spheres sheltered by the eaves, tiny woven sacks swaying in the wind. Human nests are equally diverse. We choose different sites for different purposes, but all rural dwellings have an intimate rapport with the landscape. In Bruce Barker's cover story we introduce you to the Grahams, whose impressive Rocky Mountain log home is tucked into the forest by the Elbow River. They describe how that landscape has both comforted and challenged them over the years. Make the most of summer as it unfolds around your country nest. Savour all its comforts and challenges.