Thursday, October 4, 2012
Morning of August 24, 2012. Day 10. Whoops, somebody's not IN the nest. He's ON it. Good thing I checked from afar...
Preening, just like a big boy. The beauty of standing back with a telephoto on manual focus.
It's happened. They're out. I can hear the other one scrabbling and fluttering in the roses.
The day is hot as Hades and they're baking in that border.
I am unprepared for how very tiny they are. If you grow rudbeckia and roses, you'll see what I mean. This is barely a three-inch-tall bird. Don't miss his foot and the rest of his body under the rudbeckia seed head--pretty cute! He's not begging--he's panting here. I'm glad they're feathered, mostly, to avoid getting sunburned.
Mrs. Piper chips, spits and scolds me from her lawnchair perch. Good job, Mrs. Piper. I'm so proud of you, pulling off that brood of two all by yourself.
She gives me a parting shot that fills my heart.
The two fledglings would stay in the border all afternoon. By the next morning, they were gone, presumably led off to the cooler woods by their mother. Oh, how desperately I hoped to see them again, and perhaps even photograph them. But this would be the time that Mrs. Piper did not want humans around--while her babies were flightless and scrambling. So I'd see neither hide nor hair of the young birds. Now, every once in awhile I'd see Mrs. Piper at the bath. So I knew she still had a reason or two to hang around, and only hoped that the two fledglings were thriving and growing.
I'm not telling. Thanks for the clean tub, by the way.
Least I can do for you, little Muse.
Posted by Julie Zickefoose at 3:30 AM