Bluebirds: Thirty Days of Backyard Bliss

Back in July, I reported a wish come true: my husband and I discovered a pair of Eastern Bluebirds nesting in our backyard. We’d never observed bluebirds nearby, but we wanted them and believed our yard would provide a good home. So we took a chance, made and erected a box (that’s a “Marital We,” which the ladies out there know is code for “HE made and erected the box”), and it worked!

The female laid five sky blue eggs; four hatched on July 13th. For the next three weeks, I watched those birds like a haw– I mean, like a concerned nestbox steward.

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 a bit odd, me sitting alone for hours in the middle of a grassy yard, big lens in hand, facing nothing more than a PVC pole as if waiting for it to jump!

I’m sure nosy neighbor Sharon would pull aside her sheers every morning and say “What is she DOING?! Why doesn’t she pull some weeds while she’s out there!?”

But luckily, no one called the cops, not even the reclusive widow whose window my mega-lens was pointing at for three weeks. (And yes, I was sensitive to the birds. If my presence seemed to affect their feeding, I left them in peace).

The activity may have looked dull and lifeless, but for me it was as captivating as watching episodes of Jon & Kate Plus 8 before the split. How do they feed ALL THOSE MOUTHS? What grub did she bring home this time?  Man, she’s looking good today!  No fair–he’s disappeared for hours while she’s home feeding the kids! Oh, there he is…on his favorite twig, coiffing his ‘do.

He just needed a little break. It’s hard to raise that many feathery kids!

It was FASCINATING to watch the variety of bugs the parents brought back for the fledglings: fat, juicy caterpillars, gangly spiders, katydids, and lacy moths. One time the male turned to me before entering the nest – his entire beak stuffed with an indignant grasshopper!

These priceless moments set off a flashing web-of-life billboard in my mind: KILL YOUR LAWN! DON’T USE PESTICIDES! These birds need their bugs, people!

This also gave me an appreciation for how crafty (read: well-adapted) these birds are to find all this food on their own with no hands, no nets, no shovels, and no biological survey maps with arrows pointing to the richest soil….

Heck, how many of us would die of starvation if forced to live in our backyards for a week? Yet somehow these birds return with a veritable feast to feed their young at least twice an hour.

Here’s a shot of the female leaving the nest taking with her a little fledgling “present.” (That’s a fecal sac to you bird nerds.)

One morning, I felt a burst of pride when I saw the male return with a black raspberry, newly plucked from our overgrown shrub. It was like setting the table hoping the President will come to dinner–and he does!

Fledgling bluebirds leave the nest anywhere from 16 to 22 days. After 17 days, this little guy was wondering what life was like outside his dark, hot, crowded (and by now, smelly) cell, very much wanting a break from his siblings.

But he needed a few more days to gain the courage.

By this time, however, I was getting nervous. For the last several days, I’d observed House Sparrows not only ON THE NESTBOX but aggressively chasing the parents from perch to perch. The idea that these bluebirds may have come this far only to be harassed and stamped out by a Passer domesticus stirred the “mama bear” inside me. I had everyone in the house on HOSP patrol with permission to intimidate.

On Day 19 I hid in a makeshift blind and waited with my lens on a tripod and my finger on “MOVIE.” But it was a dark, dreary day with steady, hard rain. I soon gave up, hoping to catch the Great Escape the next morning.

On Day 20, I rose with the sun and padded to the backyard, which was still hugging the stillness of night. As I walked toward the box, I saw more American Robins in my backyard than I’d ever seen before…five, six, seven, eight scurrying about on limbs and grass, making soft chirps to nudge the quiet. I noted some were small, brown, spotted…Must be a newly fledged family, I thought.

How silly of me.

I watched the box for a moment and it saw that it was empty. My lovely bluebird family had fledged and I had missed the whole thing. I shrugged my shoulders, happy that at least they’d completed their cycle.

I got in the car to go birding. As I drove away, it occurred to me that in the dim morning light, those spotted “American Robins” could very well have been my juvenile bluebirds in the company of adult robins–both species are thrushes, after all. But I will never know.

I did not see the juveniles or parents again. But I wish them well.

The bluebird parents will help the young fatten up over the next several weeks in preparation for their long journey south (unless they are part of the non-migratory population that overwinters in the North). You can bet I’m keeping my fingers crossed, my lawn free of pesticides, and my nestbox free of House Sparrows so that the bluebirds may return next year.

Related posts:

1. Bluebirds in My Backyard – I knew this day would come 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...
2. Sparrows vs. Bluebirds: Enter The Starling Ten days ago I observed a pair of bluebirds tidying last year’s nest. That early couple, which carried nesting material in their beaks while ducking in...
3. Sparrows vs. Bluebirds: Round One What a day! The drama in my backyard has waxed and waned and the outcome is still not clear. No sooner had I clicked “Publish”...

Tagged as: backyard birds, bluebirds, nesting birds