The entire bird population at my house has me about ready to pull out my meticulously dyed red hair. I don’t see how in the world birds, as a species, survive, because they are dadgum stupid! Some days, I wish they would all just fly away.
I told y’all about a pair of mourning doves who built their nest on a precarious perch — and it’s gone with the wind. The doves are still around, and crying their hearts out all night long. I feel sorry for them, but I told them not to do it. My Daddy always said, “I feel for you but I can’t reach you.”
Joining them in song, in the middle of the doggone night, is a whole choir of mockingbirds who accompany that first mockingbird I told y’all about. I guess that he managed to reproduce. Then, he taught the whole clan to sing the Hallelujah Chorus — over and over and over and over. It’s a broken record. I feel for them but I can’t reach them either. If I could, I’d wring their little necks.
The latest to give me grief is the wren (my kids called them “Tweeble birds” because of their cute little song). One wren in particular is breaking my heart. I don’t know how to help her, and I want to do anything I can to make her life easier.
Wrens are scientifically classified in the family “Troglodytidae,” which comes from the word “Troglodyte.” That word means “cave dweller,” and this particular wren has decided that my garage is her “cave.”
I don’t know how in thunder she did it; our garage door is never open but for a short while during the day (if we are working on the yard). She managed to get inside, build a nest, lay eggs, and raise hatchlings while we weren’t looking! I had noticed her trapped in the garage several mornings, but I can’t figure out how she has repeatedly gotten inside to feed those babies!
We have opened a window on the other side of the garage, but the wren doesn’t know she has that entrance yet. First I have to trap her in the garage so she can find it. Now that I want her in the garage, I can’t trap her. Stupid bird!
Of course, my tender heart is worried sick. I don’t want any more mommas to lose their babies this week. But, I think it might already be too late. I console myself with the fact that they never had a chance anyway. What bird could learn to fly in our garage?
As much as I know that death is all just part of the cycle of life, I wish that the Universe had not picked this week to hammer that lesson home.
I think I’ll go listen to the mockingbirds. Maybe I can teach them to sing I’ll Fly Away.
Other posts you might enjoy:
- New Life. Only The Good Friday.
- Nesting Guest
- The Prodigal Returns!
- Leave Well Enough Alone
- Are You Like The Critter In My Attic?
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{ 7 comments }
What a place for a nest – good grief. Would she reject it if you moved it somewhere else?
That’s a sweet version of I’ll Fly Away – more ballady and less Appalachian than I’m used to hearing it
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Robins last blog post..Yet another odd-looking cactus
I am having a hard time this week too. The owls have not been back for a few days to the nest. I know there was one baby but I can’t see him/her anymore. It is way up in the tree but still no sign of fluffy white down or anything)-: I think the worst has happened)-: Although no sign of a body either.
Anyhow thought I would share a ghost story to cheer you up. Another blogger has posted it so you will have to swing by there to read about it(-: Hope it makes you smile(-:
http://tinaramsey.blogspot.com/2009/05/spring-vacation-pt-2-ghost.html
cindees last blog post..Fertilizer Friday With Clouds and Flowers
This is really weird!
I had a big loss and a bird experience yesterday.
We had to cut down a tree I really love. A big willow that is about a hundred years old has shaded our summer picnics for the last 30 years. The tree is rotten and the roots are getting into the septic tank. So down it went yesterday. I have been sad about this for weeks.
My plan was not to go and watch….but my husband came into the house with a bird nest full of baby robins. The limb the nest was on had been cut down and the mother robin was having a fit.
I put the nest in a nearby tree hoping she would find it.
The good news is -mom and babies have reunited and the bad news is there is a stump where a beautiful tree once stood.
Loved you story…as always
Sheila
Sheilas last blog post..What Blogs Do You Follow?
A wonderful if sad story. I hope you work out the wren problem. We had a mourning dove whose nest fell to the ground where she sat on it. Then she disappeared. Those doves are so foolish and I have to assume cats or something chased her off that ground dwelling nest.
Jamies last blog post..Manic Monday – Pines
Funny you should be talking about sad bird stories. I’ve been following a live camera on an eagles nest in Canada for the last 2 weeks. I quit watching today as there is a runt (I named her Petunia) & the 2 bigger eaglets pick on it horribly. I was crying so hard today I could hardly breathe (I think there is something wrong with my emotional make up – it is mother nature after all!)Anyway it has been fascinating up till now. But I won’t go back. Here’s the link if you have the stomach for it. http://www.cbc.ca/bc/features/eaglecam/
Dammit Shelly!! Send my Mockingbirds home! For the past 15 years I have had Mockingbirds singing their little hearts out all night outside my bedroom windows of 3 different homes. And they’re not here this year! I keep thinking they’re just late, or I’m early, but I’m beginning to suspect that they are hanging out at your house. Please tell them to go home to Auntie Thorne, or I’ll be forced to send my flying monkeys! (Id you think the baby wrens get too hungry, go get them some mealy worms at the pet store. Don’t worry, if the wrens don’t eat them the worms won’t infest your garage, they’ll just die. xoxo
Thornes last blog post..4 Dead in Ohio
Maybe I shouldn’t giggle…but I did. Not at the poor mommy birds losing their nests to the winds or being locked away in a garage…but the mockingbird story just had me giggling away! We have a pear tree outside our bedroom window and every year we have a particularly vocal mockingbird that sings it’s heart out all night. One night I counted 22 different songs before I lost count – ever wonder if we might be hearing songs from long-extinct birds that the mockingbirds sing? Anyway, one night my poor, tired (grumpy) husband actually went outside in the middle of the night and shook that tree to try to get that bird to shut up. Didn’t work. It squawked, flew away and then came right back as soon as we began to drift off to sleep. We’ve given up…instead we bought an air filter machine that creates a white noise so we can sleep. We can’t even hear our sons playing their (loud) electric guitars all night long!:grin:
Donnas last blog post..Pink Guardian Angel
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