I’ve been a bit in mourning over the last bluebird nest, the one the Mama abandoned with four little unhatched eggs. And I’ve kept a steady watch for the parents—I want irrefutable proof they are both still around. Typically that means looking out the window just after supper; they most often show up just as I’m washing the dinner dishes. Most nights I see at least one, but since they tend to hang around down by the water, I can’t always get a good enough look to know for sure whether I’ve spotted a male or a female.
And then just before we left for Spain, I looked out to see some baby bird activity.
I grabbed the camera and ran for the porch. There were birds everywhere! As I opened the screen door, they scurried one yard over, to the Cope’s . We’d had a light rain and there were still some drops coming down. But I didn’t care as I realized just what was going on.
Ten—count ’em, ten—bluebirds, and most of ’em babies, having the finest time playing in the water collected in the kayak’s hull.
I thought I might faint! Which birds were these? My bluebirds could not have hatched a new nest in the time that had passed since I last saw the Mama sitting on the nest on our downstairs porch. And surely there were at least two broods collected here. Is this another family of bluebirds altogether? I could spot one Papa in many of my photos (you see him above in bright blue), but I still couldn’t identify the Mama.
Oh well. Whoever they are, I think it’s a miracle. Right there on Bickley’s Pond, one big happy bluebird family!