Bluebirds in My Backyard – I knew this day would come

Right this very minute, a mating pair of bluebirds is frolicking in my backyard.

I knew this day would come. I hoped for it, I planned for it. But after three solid years of living on this corner lot in upstate New York and never even SEEING a bluebird for miles, my hopes were growing dim.

When I moved here, I thought my yard was worthy of a bluebird. I live in a tiny village at the transition zone between Rochester’s outer ring of suburbs and large expanses of rural farmlands that stretch south toward the Finger Lakes.

I based my unlikely premonition on a neighbor’s yard, rather than my own. Some folks stroll the sidewalks wondering what their neighbors are serving for dinner or watching on TV. I walk down the street wondering what birds they harbor in the farthest reaches of their backyards.

Just down the street is a huge yard covered by a tall-grass meadow. Edged by an old field that transitions to mature oaks alongside a shaded creek, it’s exactly the kind of yard that, in theory, could appeal to courting bluebirds. If young from a previous year moved back up here with their parents looking for their own studio apartment, maybe my yard would appear a decent hangout…

While normally used as a staging area for dueling light sabres, my smaller yard can be construed to hopeful eyes as a nice, pint-sized meadow with edge habitat. We have a miniature “orchard” (two apple trees, two pear trees, red currants, blackberries, and a strand of wild grapes) and a “wide” expanse of grass that connects with other grassy backyards. So why NOT bluebirds?

In the dark of winter, I convinced my husband to build a bluebird box. Bluebirds start selecting nesting sites as early as late February, and we had ours installed by early March.

By late April, I remained hopeful a pair of late-nesters would move in, but by late May I had given up. I busied myself with perennial gardening and sat among the lilies, contemplating whether I was gusty enough to evict the house sparrows that just commandeered my flicker box.

June passed with an abundance of flowers but not of native nesting song birds.

Yet today – when July has barely edged out June – we discover this male plucking fresh bugs from our lawn to feed his lady.

Eastern Bluebird

The female waits inside for his offering. They flit and fly from pine to post to wire to swingset to mailbox to nestbox all day.

Photos are taken. A hunch is validated. Hopes fulfilled. Joys renewed.

After all these years, this place is starting to feel like home. Good neighbors make all the difference…

Related posts:

1. Bluebirds: Thirty Days of Backyard Bliss In the mornings I'd grab my camera, coffee, and bins and pad across the dewy lawn to a plastic Adirondack chair. I reckon it looked...
2. Wandering Winding Down, Writing Winding Up May, June, and July have been a swirl of travel, birding, photography, deadlines, and outdoor pursuits. I've traveled to the Adirondacks for four days, to...
3. June is Birding Month in The Adirondacks The Adirondack Park is a haven for boreal birds that migrate to the region every spring. Migrants arrive in full force by late May, and by...

Tagged as: Birds, bluebirds