Day 247: There is a phrase my friends have heard me say a thousand times or more: "There is nothing, absolutely nothing as cute as baby birds." I mean, kittens run a close second in my book, but baby birds, be they fluffy precocial chickies or duckies or pink-skinned, pinfeathered buzzards simply melt my hard old heart. A baby parrot or cockatoo, all beak and spikes, is to my way of thinking one of the cutest critters on the face of the earth. Naked jaybirds? I love them. I've never seen a baby hummingbird, but I'm sure I would adore them. Naturally, the annual fledging of swallows from my birdhouses requires long hours at the window, camera in hand, hoping to catch the little "gilligans" (my nickname for them) as they take their first looks at the big, wide world and the bigger open sky. This year, only the House of Chirp was occupied. Pussywillow Cottage has seen too many tragedies when invading wasps or savage squirrels attacked, and I'll need to find a new location for it if I expect to draw tenants. Tree Swallows won the bid for the House of Chirp, and from the sounds emanating from deep within, there must be three or four offpsring nearing the time of their first flight. Easily told from the adults by their greyish feathers and yellow-pink gapes, they change shifts at the door as Mom and Dad make repeated trips to the insect market, bringing home mosquitoes, crane flies or anything else they can nab at a bargain price. It's too early yet for dragonflies, but a few years ago, one parent brought one home and struggled for several minutes to get it through the door. Those little tummies are hungry! It won't be long now before the parents tempt them into taking wing by holding breakfast just out of reach. Fly, you little sweethearts! And I'll see you next year.
No comments:
Post a Comment