Clutch Cargo Lips

For the past several springs, we’ve had house sparrows nesting in our terracotta nest box that is attached to an outside wall of our screened porch. While I’m not a huge fan of house sparrows, any nesting activity is fun to follow. This year, however, the nest box was taken over by house wrens. For a while there was quite the turf war going on between a pair of house sparrows and the house wrens. The wrens built a nest, but the sparrows insisted on entering the next box with out permission, causing the wrens to make all sorts of noise and attack the intruder. It was apparent later that the female wren was on the nest, because when the sparrow tried to enter, it immediately flew away — and often the male wren would chase it even further away.

This morning I realized that the eggs must have hatched because both wrens were busy flying in and out of the next box carrying various tasty bugs. It was entertaining to watch them take turns bringing the food to their young. One would sit the back of a chair that is just below the nest box. It would burst into a trilling song, often with difficulty because its mouth was full of bug. Its mate would then fly away from the nest and the singing wren would fly to the nest. Soon the mate would return with a mouthful of insect and sing, to let its mate know it was there, with food. This went on during my two cups of morning coffee and I suspect it is still going on, because I keep hearing the trill of the wren. I wonder when they sleep!

Our neighbors have a bird house in a small tree, just over the fence from us. I remember watching them put it up and doubting they’d get any birds in it. I was mistaken. They have a pair of Carolina chickadees, and judging from the sounds coming from the bird house, the chickadees have a few offspring to feed. I noticed that one of the chickadees (perhaps both — they look alike to me) was flying up to my office window, where I have a feeder full of sunflower hearts. Just now I’ve seen a very disheveled chickadee come and go from the sunflower feeder several times. Definitely a new parent. I remember that look.

I’m pretty sure a pair of Carolina wrens are nesting somewhere nearby, because I’ve heard one singing its “Judy Judy Judy Judy Judy” song so loud it woke me up the other morning.

A pair of Northern cardinals built a nest in a thorn bush outside our kitchen window earlier this spring, but abandoned it soon after. I think they were concerned about all the people coming and going along the path between the house and the bush. Its a shame, because it was a pretty smart location otherwise.

Of course, there are the American robins whose nests I never see until well into the summer, but whose blue eggs I usually find either intact (probably dropped by a predator) or broken and empty (probably dropped by a one of the robins, protecting the nest from predators).

The other day my son and I saw a frantic tufted titmouse at the empty bird feeder outside the window on the other side of the office. I’d not filled it because it was making a mess on the ground below, but clearly one of the birds who’d been visiting that feeder expected it to be filled. He sat on the top of the feeder and squeaked, shaking his wings like a fledgling. He then jumped onto the screen and squeaked even louder. If I didn’t know that birds don’t see in front of them, I would have thought he was looking right at me, demanding dinner. So, I wonder if it was a parent who’d temporarily been driven insane by the rigors of parenthood. I remember that too!

Soon I expect to see fledglings of many of these birds flapping their wings and making their demands for food and attention clear to all within earshot.

Ahh, the joys of parenthood.

This morning I took my morning coffee to the back porch and drank it there. As I sat, slightly shivering, I heard and or saw the following birds:

• Northern Cardinal
• House Wren
• Carolina Wren
• Tufted Titmouse
• Carolina Chickadee
• White-Breasted Nuthatch
• House Finch
• American Goldfinch
• Northern Flicker
• Pileated Woodpecker.

Not bad for five minutes in suburbia.

We had a nice and lazy Mother’s Day yesterday and because I was still getting over my loss of sleep from Friday, thought I’d take a little nap. I didn’t get to sleep, however, because shortly after lying down, I heard a bird call from the backyard I don’t hear a whole lot. I thought about what it could be, then remembered — oh yeah, blue jay.

Ok, so blue jays are not that exciting, but I figured I’d go take a look anyway. They are always fun to watch. I walked downstairs to the windows that overlook the back yard and was surprised to see a medium sized hawk with black stripes on its tail sitting on the top of our trampoline net. Then I saw, on the floor of the trampoline, three agitated mourning doves. They’d try to fly up to escape, and the hawk would dive at them, and then fly up to the opposite side of the trampoline. Whenever the hawk moved, a pair of blue jays would dive at the hawk, scolding all the while, from branches above the trampoline. This happened several times and I wondered if I should go save the doves because it looked dire for them. If my camera had been handy I would have snapped a photo or two or taken a movie, because this was so weird, but before I could grab my camera, the hawk flew away to another yard. I guess the blue jays were too much for it.

The mourning doves were either exhausted or too scared to fly well, because they couldn’t seem to fly out of the enclosure. Either that or they might need a longer runway to become airborne than the trampoline offered. Clare, Andrew and I went out and opened the flap of the trampoline net and the doves calmly walked out of the enclosure and flew away.

I must be getting spring fever - after all the maple outside my office window is nearly ready bloom. I’ve watched the red buds swell over the past few weeks, and I think can see some yellow along the seams. I had no tolerance for work yesterday, although I did get a few hours of work accomplished.

What I spent the most time on, however, was a makeshift platform bird feeder. I’d already put my tube feeder on a [sort of a] hook on the side of the window, but wanted something more visible so I could capture (on film) the birds that visit. I reasoned that I could use the window bottom to hold something light horizontally outside the ledge and put some birdseed on it. Then I could put the webcam next to the window and get more birds on [digital] film.

I looked around the attic and found a couple of green lids from large Rubbermaid^® containers which I attached to the window ledge by wedging it under the bottom of the casement window. It looks silly, but it was effective. After only a few moments of hesitation, the birds began eating off the feeder and kept it up most of the afternoon.

Maybe I’ll get some work done today.