|Bird in the wild, practically naked, resting in the nest. Alone. So very cold and alone.|
|Much happier, more secure bird. Just a reminder: I am available to assist Mother Nature. [That is one busy cartoon]|
Tonight, I'm too distracted by a thunder storm to think of anything to write. I confess: I'm worried about the baby birds outside, which is always weird because they don't need a single thing from me. Rationally, I know this, but the rain is so cold and the wind has been whipping around the house, bringing branches down in the yard. The big oak outside my window could stand to shed a few dead branches; that's not a big deal, but I'm seeing bird nests on the ground, too! Yikes! Hopefully, those are old (and yes, I did check the ground for fledglings!). I've been like this for years, no use denying it.
All three of my bird boxes, a bush, and the eave of my house contain nests of baby birds that I visit daily. In some years past, the birds get so familiar with my visits that they cease to care. Somewhere around here is a camera, but I take pictures with a phone - the birds are about six inches away and they don't mind it much. Here's a mama bird and offspring chattin' me up. I love that baby bird is fearless and practically sitting on mama's head:
|You again. Did you bring worms? Can you baby sit on Saturday?|
Last year, during a storm with icy cold rain, I walked out to look at the bird boxes. About three feet from the fence post - oh, no! Three nearly naked birdlettes lay on the ground. Ignoring all sage advice about finding young birds, I picked them up quickly and warmed them in my hands. The cold couldn't have helped their situation. How did they get out?? Back in the hole they went, as I concluded that warmth and the nest was the best chance they had for survival.
Consulting my trusty bird books, I discovered that there was a bird that was known for stealing nests, and it would not hesitate to fling a young one out. Pretty sure I saw them hanging around the boxes, but I didn't realize they were the bird bullies of the neighborhood. What made me check the nest that night, I'll never know.
|"This was my hiding place! Move over, she is done counting to 100. |
Hide! Hide! You guys never play hide and tweet the right way."
This experience has just made me think that I need to watch all the birds and possibly that I can come up with a superior means of bird supervision for their young; I could be a babysitter for birds or possible a birdie body guard, without the old country accent. There's all kind of helpful things I could do that wild birds would never consider.
I'm not sure how they would pay me, but since the squirrels had me working for peanuts, I'm sure we could work out something.
|"Have a good day, human."|