Friends...all shapes and sizes

   For the past week, an osprey has been hanging about the yard.  It usually came to roost on a low limb of a pine tree that grows near the shore end of the pier.  As I make a dozen or so trips to the pier each day, I have made it a habit to speak to the bird.  He would cock his head to one side as if trying to understand my "strange" language.  Not once did the osprey act startled or afraid of my approach.  In fact, I was beginning to think he looked forward to our interaction just as I did.  Perhaps, birds and humans are not that much different as we both crave attention from where it comes.  If I was to linger long between visits, his high-pitched screeches could be heard echoing up the hillside.  Was he calling me?

  This daily routine has been a pleasant break from the chore-load that I have been having since both guys of the household (husband and son) were laid-up.  My first interaction with the osprey was when I was cutting firewood.  The bird came to the pine tree and watched the entire time as I cut, loaded and then hauled the firewood up the hillside.  For seven days, he came.  It was like clockwork.  I would head to the pier at 4am with my mug of coffee and he would be there.  Off and on during the day, I could depend on his presence so much so that I started venting to the bird about the heavy load I was bearing.  He seemed to care...or perhaps, I was hoping someone did and the bird was a handy listener. 

  Today, my friend did not come.  The limb sat empty.  It was a bit saddening and I felt a certain loneliness come across me.  Maybe the inclement weather had something to do with his absence...maybe he found a new friend who was more interesting.  Whichever...I am purely grateful that he was there when I needed him the most and I wish him well.  Friends come in all shapes and sizes.  Mine, at the moment, was in the form of a bird.

Ulterior Motive!

   A few days ago, I jokingly made a post on social media about a seagull that decided to "friend" me.  For some reason, the pun flew by most folks and all remarked about how nice the gull appeared.  Yep, I was, indeed, poking fun at the sudden rash of "friend requests" I had received on the site.  Most of those were not valid requests and were followed by the usual "I did not make a new account!  Do NOT accept a friend request from me!"  The bird, however, did validate its requested friendship by visiting me again today.  We had a grand time sitting in the warm sunshine while discussing the fishing techniques of each other.  Then, I threw the net, caught a few menhaden and the bird feasted.  (No wonder this bird wants to be friends!  I have been hoodwinked into catching its breakfast!)

  This is a immature laughing gull and they are known as the "beggars of the bird world".  These birds would just as rather beg, borrow or steal lunch than catch it.  They only "work" if absolutely necessary.  They are pretty much jerks that will show up to dine at any banquet even if they were not invited.  Other birds have to catch their breakfast then be quick and agile enough to evade the sneaky gulls.  

  So..you may rightly ask why I catch food for the gull.  I do simply to allow the terns to eat in peace.  If the gull is getting its fill of menhaden on the pier, it is most likely not going to expend energy chasing down a tern to steal its food.  (Did I mention that I really like the terns?)  I shall continue to feed my "friend" (even if I use the term in jest) and enjoy watching the terns dive for their own meals.

Could It Be Moe?

   A few years back, I had the honor of befriending a Great Blue Heron.  This started when the bird as a youngster not yet adept at catching fish ventured onto the pier.  I offered it a few little mullet which it greatly appreciated...so much so that the bird returned every day for a handout.  After the first few days, I decided to name the bird "Moe".  He continued to come even after becoming an adult bird.  He and I got to be such good friends that he would actually take fish from my hands without ever pecking at me.  Oh, yeah.  I was warned.  "That bird will peck your eyes out if you get too close!"  It is silliness like this that bewilders me.  Moe never tried to "peck my eyes out" nor harm me in any way.  None of the critters of the Bayou do.  None.  For a couple of years, I had to limit my pier time due to health issues.  It broke my heart to know my friends (such as Moe) would not understand why I abandoned them but I followed doctor's orders and stayed a bit closer to the Little Bayou House. 

  Early this morning as I sat and watched the sunrise, I noticed a heron on my brother's pier.  The bird brought back memories of Moe and the good times I had with the bird.  I watched as the heron scooped up mullet after mullet from the water.  It brought me joy just knowing I was back in my "element"...back in my happy place.  

  As I sat there watching that bird, he kept a watchful eye on me, too. After a good half hour, the heron left my brother's pier and flew directly over where I was sitting.  It surprised me to see the bird actually do a "wing tilt" much as pilots do planes when they acknowledge or notice someone.  Do birds do that, too?  Was this Moe and did he recognize me?  Probably not.  Most likely the wobble was due to air currents or just the heron changing course.  Still, it brought a smile and in my mind, Moe gave me a quick "hello" before flying to the back of the Bayou. It was a good morning.

The Watcher Bird

   Most of the time, people watch birds.  I watch birds.  Their antics amuse me and it has been instilled in me by a favorite (late) cousin, that I should identify birds.  I try.  Fairie Lyn was far better at it than I will ever be.  Birds were her passion.  Birds are an amusement to me.  Sometimes, however, the birds do the watching.

There is a bird that visits the pier often.  Each morning, I can find the Little Green Heron sitting next to one of the posts.  It is watching.  "Watching for what" is the question that bothers me.  Is the bird merely watching to see when the minnows get trapped in tide pools?  Is it watching for the gator to come and go so it feels safer?  Or, is it merely watching the waves and is mesmerized by the motion?  Whatever it is doing, the bird is so absorbed that it rarely hears me approach.  When it does, it will move to the other side of the post and continue staring out over the water. 

  I sort of feel at one with this bird.  I can watch the water for hours on end, too.  There is, indeed, something mesmerizing about the movement of the waves.  It is calming and causes one to become lost in deep thought.  I understand the bird's wish to be undisturbed in its oblivion.  I am right there with you, bird friend.

Good Day For A Nap!

  Early this morning, I made a mad dash to the pier between rain showers.  I figured if I was going to be cooped up all day, I may as well chance at least a tiny bit of freedom!  As I headed to the pier, I noticed a bird at the very end.  Ok?  So the bird looked a tad strange.  From what I could see, it was black and sort of hunched over like it was ill.  Well, there was nothing to do but check on this friend even though there was not much I could do to help.  The bird was perched on the far end of the unfinished section of the pier.  To get to it, I would have had to struggle to launch the small skiff and then paddle out to that section.  Still, the bird demanded attention.  

  As I was heading down the pier, a friend's son joined me.  He had stopped in for a visit and noticed I was on the pier.  When I made mention of the bird, he agreed that something looked amiss.  We strolled down together, all the while talking.  We were making no effort to "sneak" up on the it but the bird did not take notice of us.  When we were right at the incomplete section discussing the bird, it finally turned to look at us.  Ahh, well, now!  There was nary a thing wrong with our bird other than it had been in a deep sleep!

  Approaching from the rear of the bird with its head tucked beneath its wings on its back, it was hard to identify it.  As soon as it popped that head out, it was undeniably a Double-crested Cormorant!  The bird made no effort to leave even though Christopher and I were quite near.  It stretched, flapped its wings then settled back down for another nap.  The rough weather must have exhausted the poor bird so Chris and I let it rest.  We headed back up the hillside for a mug of coffee fully satisfied that our bird friend was quite well.

Happy Encounter

   It has long been my habit to rise before the sun, go to the pier, then, after the sun rises, take a hike about the place.  During the warmer months, I dare not wander too much in the dark since most snakes are nocturnal and I might find one the hard way.  The eyesight is not what it used to be in my younger years.  I now use my other senses more.  I can smell a snake, hear soft footsteps or just generally "sense" when danger is near.  It does not happen often but occasionally a venomous snake, bobcat or coyote is on the path and I would rather just avoid confrontation if possible.  So, like I said, in the warmer months, I do not traipse the hillside before dawn.

  This morning, the hike began as usual with the sun just peeping over the pines.  There was enough light for me to see what was underfoot but not necessarily what was hiding in the bushes.  I heard a strange rustling and thought perhaps the cardinals were following me but, then, I heard the familiar call and knew the Great Crested Flycatcher was nearby.  I started searching the treetops but found the bird not twenty feet from me!  I never expected this shy bird to be so near.  I was elated with my find and started photographing the silhouetted bird.  This must have been a male as it was doing the typical "predawn song" that is definitely a "male thing".  Somewhere, his ladylove was on a nest and he was letting her know that all was well.

  The bird stayed on the low limb for about ten minutes as I stood just beneath him.  Then when the sky lightened, he took flight to the highest limb and started the hunt for breakfast.  Mr. Flycatcher, I assure you there are plenty of mosquitoes and deer flies for you to catch!  Please...help yourself!

Another Brood

   After pushing the lawnmower for about three hours, I decided it was time for a break.  It was hot!  But I had cut what I wanted to clear so all was good.  Grabbing a big glass of lemonade and the camera, I headed to the coolest place I could find.  There was a nice breeze blowing off the Bay so the pier was just the place to be.  Meandering down the board path then down the pier, itself, I came to a sudden halt.  A critter friend was out and I did not wish to frighten her.  Mama Rail was on the marsh mats created by the high tides of last week.  This is nothing unusual except for the fact that she was acting a bit strange.  Normally, my friend pays no attention to me and keeps right on hunting for food.  This time, she hunkered down in the marsh and acted like she was in hopes I would not see her.

  Well, that had just the opposite effect.  I NEEDED to know that my friend was alright.  Mama Rail and I have been through far too much for me to ignore her.  So, I sat right there in the middle of the pier for about a half hour sipping my lemonade and watching a bird.

  After a bit, I figured out what was going on with my friend.  She was trying to stay hidden as she had her little ones out for their first time.  The little black fluffballs were squatting near Mama Rail!  Ahh, time to slip on up the hillside and let the bird tend to her babies without any harassment from me.  Mama Rail has a big enough job keeping the brood safe from predators and surely does not need to fret over me.  She will bring the little ones out for me to see soon enough.  Good luck, Little Mama!

Predawn Encounter!

   Being up before dawn gives one an entirely different view of the world.  At that time, the mind is not yet cluttered by the day's events and the brain can decipher things far more clearly.  Distractions of everyday life can often get in the way of what is really happening right beneath our noses.  I see things.  I hear things.  My brain absorbs things.  It is no wonder that this is a favorite time of day for me.  

  I was on the pier before dawn to watch the sunrise.  The show did not disappoint as a kaleidoscope of hues lit up the sky.  Since the weather forecast called for dense clouds, I was sure the sun would catch hold of each and every one.  It was spectacular!  Then, a real treat was in store for me as I meandered back up the board path to the Little Bayou House.  A soft chirp let me know that one of my bird friends was awake and aware that I was out and about.  On a dead branch of the avocado tree, a lone blue jay stared down at me.  It softly chirped again and looked down at the bench where I usually put seeds for my friends.  The bench was empty.  Obviously, the jay was letting me know that it was hungry!  I had to remedy that situation right quick.  With a cup of seeds in hand, I was surprised to see my friend still on the branch waiting for breakfast.  Carefully, I sprinkled the seeds on the board seat and stood back to converse with bird.  "There you go, my friend."  "Chirp" "Yes, I know you are hungry but it is still pretty dark."  "Chirp"  "Alrighty, then!  Have at it!"  "Chirp"  Yep, it almost seemed as if the bird was answering me.  I stepped back about two feet and the jay fluttered down to the bench, grabbed a seed and flew back to its perch.  Ahh, life is good.

  Being still dark, I headed inside to make a mug of coffee and, then, joined my friend in the garden.  There, in the stillness of the early morn, we shared a bit of satisfaction along with our repast...my coffee...the bird's sunflower seeds.  We were both happy campers.  Life is good.

Acrobatic Bird

   Early this morning, I did my usual...take the mug of coffee to the Small Gardens, feed the birds and then sit and enjoy their company.  Heavy cloud cover kept the darkness lingering a bit longer than normal.  As I watched the   "feeder crew", I could hear a bird calling in the treetops.  It had a single, clear call that rang through the stillness of the morn.  Ahh, this friend would not be visiting the feeders and, if I wanted to see it, my sights would have to be lifted.  A Great Crested Flycatcher was somewhere above!

  I scanned the grayness and soon found the bird.  In the top of a tall, water oak, my friend sat precariously on a twig.  The bird continued its calling for a good ten minutes.  Then, suddenly, it did what appeared to almost be a "backflip" off the branch and swooped down through the clearing.  It was off to catch breakfast!  After just a few moments, the bird was back.  It did this several times while I watched.  

  The Great Crested Flycatcher is a patient bird that sits and waits on a treetop perch.  When it spies an insect, it swoops down after it only to immediately return to the high limb.  It prefers this method of hunting over the scratch and peck like other birds.  The bird was doing a quite nice job of entertaining me while I sipped my coffee.  Its acrobatic stunts were pretty impressive! Then, both the bird and I decided it was time for other things.  It flew to the back of the property and I headed to the vegetable garden to plant cucumbers and radishes.

The Happy Couple

   For several years now, a Great Blue Heron has been coming to the pier for handouts.  The bird was a juvenile when it first appeared and I felt sorry for it.  It was skinny and was not the best at catching its own meals.  After naming him "Moe", I fed him almost every day.  The bird would actually wait for me on the end of the pier, take mullet from my hand and then follow me after the feeding.  Moe was a welcome diversion to many troubles at the time.  

  Feeding him did the trick!  Moe grew into a handsome adult who claimed his territory and could fish with the best of them.  He obviously needed a gentle nudge in the right direction and once that help was given, he flourished.  Last year, however, Moe disappeared.  I feared that he had met his end by the jaws of the alligator that lurks around the pier.  Well, critters come and critters go so life went on with me turning my attention elsewhere.  This spring, lo and behold, Moe returned!  It was as if time had never lapsed and we were back just as before.  It was good to see my old friend.

  Yesterday, Moe came to visit but brought a friend.  This was a young female who was dubbed "Mellie".  Ms. Mellie is a beauty!  I had the distinct feeling that Moe had brought Mellie by as an introduction.  Here she could get a free meal if needed and not have to worry about being harmed.  Our visit was brief.  Moe flew into the back of the Bayou with Mellie following close behind.  Hopefully, this is a sign that the two will be nesting nearby and will bring a few young'uns around soon.  We shall wait and see!

Overcoming Shyness

   Since I feed the birds and spend so much time near the feeder bench, I suppose it is only natural that the birds become accustomed to my presence.  While there has always been sort of an odd friendliness with the doves and wrens, that closeness has now extended to other birds.  Cardinals, red-winged blackbirds and blue jays call for me to bring breakfast.  The woodpeckers will go so far as to start hammering nonstop on the tree outside the window until I bring sunflower seeds.  Even the thrashers, who normally do not come to feeders, wait for me to stir the mulch so they can snatch up bugs.  There is a certain rapport that comes from simple kindness.

  For the past week, a pair of the shyest birds on the Bayou have been coming to feed on seeds that the other birds drop from the bench.  Normally, the Eastern Towhees feed mostly on insects but will eat seeds and small berries if found.  This pair has been coming to the gardens for the past couple of years but have always been leery of my presence.  Today, it thrilled me to find that both male and female came to feed.  She stayed only for a few moments before flitting back under the jasmine fence row.  (Perhaps her nest is there!)  His visit was much longer.  He lingered even when I eased my way to only a few feet from him.  I watched as he scratched beneath the lilies before coming out to observe me!  I was near enough to see his glossy feathers and even his bright red eyes!  What a beauty this bird is!  I did get tickled at how he would tilt his head questioningly as he tried to figure out if I was a predator stalking him or if I was a friend helping.  Mr. Towhee, you have nothing to fear from me, my friend.  You have nothing to fear from me.

Bothersome!

   While mourning doves are known to make the most slipshod nest of all birds, they still seem to manage pretty well.  How the mother bird keeps her eggs in the nest is beyond me.  If you ever see a nest that is nothing more than a few twigs haphazardly crisscrossed between branches, you will know you have found a dove's nest.  Then, to think she will only lay two eggs to a clutch, it makes you wonder how these are some of the most common of birds nationwide.  Oh, and we must not forget that they are a popular game bird for hunters.  It is amazing that there are so many of the birds still around.

  The yard is home to perhaps two dozen doves.  They nest wherever there is a vacant space such as the grape arbor, hanging plants or any available tree.  One pair has even nested under the jasmine vines.  (I do fret over her nest as there is a feral cat on the loose and it is not beyond raiding the nests.)  Since I have been feeding the birds, the doves have become especially tame.  I have literally come close to stepping on them since they are ground feeders.  

  This tameness, while heartwarming to me, could be the birds' undoing.  Not everything has their best interest in mind.  The young hawk has been on the fly lately so the feeding will most likely have to come to a halt again unless I can find a more secure method.  It is bothersome to know that I am just fattening the doves for the dining pleasure of the hawk.

Framed!

   Early this morning, Mark and I headed to the pier.  He wanted to see if the tide was high enough to get the small skiff out for a bit of fishing.  I have had a hankering for a nice redfish for a few weeks now and was in hopes he would be able to ease out into the Bay to catch a few.  Alas, that did not happen and does not look as if it is to happen for the next few days.  The range between high tides and low tides is practically nil for the next few days.  Then, stormy weather is to set in again.  Fishing from the pier may have to suffice.

  What turned out to be a low point for us worked out well for the pelicans.  Several brown pelicans were resting on the (still) unfinished pier.  (The recent storms have made completing the repairs caused by Hurricane Zeta nigh on impossible.)  The pelicans were happy campers with the lower tides as they were able to corral plenty of mullet.  Their bellies were full! 

  While most of the birds flew when we approached, one fine fellow stayed put and I was able to perfectly "frame" him with the odd structure of the remaining pier boards.  "Old Gus" was very polite when it came to posing for the camera.  (Either that or he was just too full to budge!)  The brown pelicans are year-round residents here and are always a source of great entertainment.  They have some of the quirkiest personalities of any birds.  You never really know just how they will react to your presence.  

  After a good ten minutes or so of photographing the bird, we decided to head back up the hill.  It was high time for me to crank that lawnmower.  Goodbye, Gus!  See you in the morning!  I've got work to do!

A Mullet Is Better Than A Snake!

   Early this morning, I was out hauling the hurricane debris mulch that I had cut yesterday.  This stuff is grand for the gardens and it is free for the taking!  I pushed that wheelbarrow up the hill so many times that my legs ache this evening!  It was during one of the "raking times" that I heard quite the ruckus going on near the pier.  Two ospreys appeared to be scuffling over one prey.  Obviously, one osprey made a catch and the other wanted it.  The battle went on even as they flew toward the woods.  I was surprised to see that the source of interest was actually a snake!  Ospreys usually prefer to eat fish.  

  Later in the day, I actually managed to photograph an osprey with its catch.  The bird sat on a pier post devouring a mullet.  It was funny because the osprey decided that I was not a threat and actually finished its feast before flying off to the back of the Bayou.  It was taking no chances with this meal!

It "Dawned" On Me!

  Pop always told me that if you got up early enough, you would see things that most others never get the opportunity to see.  While that may have been a ploy to get me out of bed and out in the fields at a halfway decent time, it does have a ring of truth to it.  Sleepyheads never get to see the glorious sunrises, the fleeting glimpses of nighttime critters nor the sparkles of sunbeams on dew-laden spiderwebs.  It has gotten to the point that I cannot sleep past about 4am. 

  Some of the most peaceful times are right at daybreak when the birds start to stir about.  They wake up singing praises to the morning and begin their day of survival.  Lately, I have started taking my mug of coffee out into the gardens to commune with the birds.  The rapport is obviously mutual since a good many birds come to greet me each day.  I do set out birdseed but, often, the birds will forego their meal for a few moments to perch within an arm's reach of me.  There, they quietly chirp "hello" before flitting off to the bench holding the sunflower seeds.  Our greetings are short and sweet.  There is something magical about the time spent.

  Watching the sunrise, in the garden or on the pier, has become even more important to me as I age.  It gives me time to reflect on what is important and what I can let go.  I have found that doing exactly what makes me happy is what is important.  Not what others think I should be doing.  Folks, life is too short to fret over others' opinions.  They are entitled to them.  You are entitled to yours.  I am entitled to mine.  Live life the way you feel is best for you.  Try to see all the glorious times in your life whether they are sunrises or not.  Find the peace.

  

Morning Coffee, Birds and Memories

  It is always fun to see the migratory birds when they pass through the area.  This morning was a thrill because, as soon as I put out the birdseed and settled down on the front steps with my cup of coffee, several Rose-breasted Grosbeaks flew in to have breakfast.  What a delight to have such sweet company with my coffee!  I marveled at their beauty while I sipped coffee and waited for the sun to rise.

  All day, the birds hung around and soon became so accustomed to me that they did not fly away when I ventured too near.  Using the wheelbarrow, I was hauling load after load of mulch from down the hill.  The mulch was being spread in the gardens not far from where I put the seed.  The grosbeaks would look at me to make sure I was not getting too close then would go back to cracking the shells of the sunflower seeds.

  My first experience with these birds dates far back to my childhood.  I spent a good bit of time with my grandparents and learned a lot about the birds that would visit their feeders.  Granddad had made a long feeder out of an old playground slide to fit right up under their picture window. Grandmother would let me get the scoop of birdseed to scatter on that long tray and then she and I would watch the birds through the window.  She had a large picture book used to identify the birds.  It was from that book that I learned the names of birds.  Grandmother let me study that book every time I was visiting.  

  I am not sure what ever happened to the "bird book" but I sure wish I had gotten it.  Not only did it hold the names and pictures of birds but it held a ton of memories, also.  I thought of all these things over coffee this morning with my lovely visitors.

Sweetness!

   While working in the Small Gardens, I have the opportunity to watch any critter that comes within range.  Usually, these are birds that come to munch the birdseed that I toss on and under a plant bench.  There are no fancy, cutesy feeders in my yard simply because some of the nighttime critters haul them off to parts unknown.  I have give up on those and the birds do not seem to mind.  In fact, I think this actually works out better for them as they get free hawk protection from the plants and benches.

  Today, I was fortunate enough to watch a pair of cardinals that were the sweetest things.  It is a well known fact that cardinals make great couples.  They are very attentive to one another and dote on each other.  The first to come is always the male. He flies down to make sure the place is safe for his ladylove and then calls to her to join him in the feast.  They will each peck at the seeds for a few moments then he carefully selects and shells a sunflower seed.  After hopping over to her side, he presents the seed.  She accepts the gift and gingerly takes it from his beak.  The whole process is adorable!

  It seems that the cardinal population is exploding around here. We have so many nesting pairs in our yard and the surrounding woods.  Perhaps it is due to a environmental depletion since the properties to our west are being clear cut.  By clear cut, I mean nothing is left standing.  Nothing!  Birds (and other critters) need some coverage and if you remove it, their nesting grounds are gone.  The birds move on to new places.  So many inhabited nests and dens were destroyed by the huge machines and so many critters have sought refuge here. Human greed is ruining life.  I welcome the critters and will always until we are pushed out by progress just as they were.  It is coming to that...probably sooner than I wish to think.   But!  Until that time, I will continue to care for my sweet critter friends!

Waiting for the call

   Early this morning, I found it strange that most of the birds were not around when I put out the birdseed.  Usually, as soon as I open the door, I am literally accosted by birds!  They want their breakfast immediately and will fuss at me if it is not readily available.  This morning, however, it was quiet.  I knew that the hawk must be somewhere in the vicinity.   Even though I looked, I never found our predator.  Shrugging it off, I poured out the birdseed and turned to set the container on the steps.  It was then that I heard a fluttering of wings and looked up to see a female cardinal on a dead branch above my head.  

  Well, hello!  It surprised me to see the female.  She has been working on her nest and usually waits until the male cardinal calls her.  (This is the second nesting female in the yard.  The first has 4 eggs but this one is still building.)  The little bird looked at me for the longest time and never went to the seed.  She, too, felt something was very wrong about the morning.  I sat on the steps watching.  After about ten minutes, the male cardinal flew in and started calling.  The female flew down to greet him and they both filled their tummies.  

  Then it was back to work for the two of them and for me.  They are busy building a fine nest in Grandmother's rose bush about 6 ft from the wren that is on the nest in the potted rose.  Thankfully, there are no squabbles!  As for me?  I cranked the lawnmower and cut for the rest of the morning satisfied that my friends were ok.

Maybe a picket fence?

   Several times in the past, I have written about a pathetic rose bush that I bought from the local dollar store.  Once it was brought home, it was put in a large pot and I hoped for the best.  The bush has outdone itself every year since.  It is beautiful and blooms year round if I remember to trim it occasionally.  One crazy thing about me is that there are some "weeds" that I consider to be garden plants.  Wood sorrel and woods violets are two of my favorites and both just happen to have taken up residence in the same pot with the rose bush.  All three get along fine so I never found a need to get rid of any of them. The pot is filled with an assortment of colors now!  

  Early this past week, I noticed Mama and Papa Wren were scoping out the rose bush.  It was not long before a fine, tightly woven nest was nestled down in the oxalis.  Mama Wren never worried that I would be working within two feet of where she decided "home" would be.  She and I have always had a special bond.  Nothing has changed.

  Today, I noticed five beautiful eggs fitted into that tiny nest.  Mama Wren is going to have her work cut out for her again this year with her large brood.  Last year, she nested in the hanging fern three different times and each time had a nest full of young'uns.  We shall just have to see how this plays out with the predators on the hill since now she is so low to the ground.  I am pondering if I should add some fencing around the entire pot!  My sweet bird friend needs a little help now and again.  That is just what friends do.

Lessons From A Cardinal

   Early this morning, I was greeted by the same male cardinal that comes every morning.  The bird seems to wait for me to bring out the birdseed before calling to its mate.  For the past month or so, the cardinal would even call to me if I was late with his breakfast.  Always as soon was the seed was scattered, he called for his ladylove.  She would come and they would dine together.

  For the past two days, she has not come.  In fact, his calling has even gotten less.  I worried at first then I realized that she is nesting and cannot come.  I decided to watch his actions.  The lovely bird flew down to the seed before I even had the lid back on the bucket.  He was highly anxious to get to the seeds before the other birds.  I watched as he picked up a few seeds, cracked and ate them.  Then, he picked up a seed, cracked it and flew off to the camellia bush with it.  It was only a few moments before he was back and repeated the process.  Ahh, Daddy Cardinals are the best!  He was actually taking seeds back to Mama Cardinal on the nest!  The sweet deed was repeated for quite some time.  

  I was astounded by this act of caring in the critter world.  If a mere bird can be so considerate, so loving and so generous, why can't people?  The more I watch the critters, the less I care to associate with most people.  Perhaps a cardinal could give life lessons to us all.