This is the 15th year of continuous daily publication for 365Caws. All things considered, it's likely it will be the last year as it is becoming increasingly difficult for me to find interesting material. However, I hope that I may have inspired someone to a greater curiosity about the natural world with my natural history posts, or encouraged a novice weaver or needleworker. If so, I've done what I set out to do.
Wednesday, June 19, 2019
Nothing Cuter
Day 249: Friends will have heard me say the same phrase frequently: "There is nothing...absolutely nothing cuter than baby birds." As much as I love kittens and would currently describe myself as a cat-person, in my heart forever and always, I shall be a bird-person foremost. I grew up with a parrot and a macaw, shared a parrot companion as young adult, but the love of my life was a cockatoo named Cocoa. As anyone who has spent any time with psittacines will tell you, they are extremely intelligent in a way very similar to humans and have a similar sense of humour. Living with one of them will teach you more about birds than any textbook ever could. Thus it was that I became a bird-lover, not just of my personal avian friends but of most bird species and especially their offspring.
Both the House of Chirp and Pussywillow Cottage were occupied earlier this year by Tree Swallows (Tachycineta bicolor). The family in Pussywillow was ravaged by a squirrel, but the House of Chirp brought forth yet another successful clutch. The kids were looking out the door day before yesterday when I took this photo, the parents trying hard to tempt them into flight by holding tasty insects just out of reach. When the sun set, they were still ensconced in the house. Last night when I arrived home from work, there were more swallows than usual sitting on the power line over the yard, and there were no little noses sticking out the hole in their box. Yes, the kids had flown the coop. They'll stick around for a week or so, being fed on the wing until they're strong enough to migrate with the rest of the flock, and I will retire from my kitchen-window vigil, replete from my annual dose of baby-bird cuteness.
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