Spring Babies!

When Johnny and Sarah were little, every six weeks or so I’d pull a kitchen chair out onto the deck, wrap a towel around their necks and clamp it on with a clothespin. Then I’d cut their hair, telling them to hold still. Afterwards, I’d shake the towel out and leave the cuttings on the deck explaining that the birds would use their hair to build nests with. They always smiled at that thought.

We’re living in a different house now, and our two chicks have grown up, and are testing their wings, returning to the nest only for a few weekends and summer vacation.

Last week as I washed dishes, out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed a bird zoom into the hanging basket of dead fuchsias that I failed to take down last fall. I got excited thinking maybe it was a hummingbird because we have a feeder right next to the hanging basket.

I sneaked up to the window as quietly as I could. It wasn’t a hummingbird. It was another kind of bird, and all I could see were her tail feathers poking up from the center of the basket. Throughout the day, her tail feathers remained there, so I figured she was sitting on eggs, and only leaving occasionally to grab a bite to eat.

All week I checked on her. Her tail feathers were constantly there. Sometimes they’d quiver in the breeze, but she was a devoted mother. On Friday, John and I drove over to Pullman for Mom’s Weekend to spend some time with our brood. Every once in awhile, in the midst of our family time over there, I wondered if the eggs had hatched.

I didn’t get home until almost 10:00 Sunday night, so I couldn’t check on the little nesting mother until Monday morning. As I ate my breakfast, I peered up and ever faithful, she was still sitting on her eggs. I was glad that I hadn’t missed the big moment.

It’s Wednesday now and early this morning I noticed a lot of activity around the hanging basket framed in the window. Mom and Dad were taking turns feeding their babies. Between their comings and goings, I set a chair by the hanging basket, climbed up, and peered into the nest. At first it seemed empty, but when I tipped the basket a little more, two scrawny heads with wide-open mouths popped up, eager to be fed.  I snapped a picture, and softly retreated indoors to give the new family a little privacy.

My next mission was to figure out what kind of birds they were. It was impossible to get a picture of either of the parents as they zoomed in and out to feed their babies. I pulled out our bird books and thumbed through the pages, narrowing it down to three or four possibilities. John would know what they were. He’s the animal expert in our family.

When he got home, he was excited to hear that the babies had hatched. We got only fleeting glimpses of mom and dad. He didn’t want to disturb the nest, but I convinced him to get up on the chair to look at the chicks. I’m not sure why the sight of such ugly babies makes us smile, but it does.

We kept searching through the bird books. The dad has a shiny black head and a distinctive yellow beak with pinstripes on his tail. Was it a Black-capped Chickadee? A Vireo? We’re not absolutely positive, but we narrowed it down and we’re pretty sure that the happy couple are Dark-Eyed Oregon Juncos.

They chose an excellent starter home to for their family, dry under the eaves of our house, too high for cats to reach, and camouflaged from predators by dead fuchsias and assorted weeds with plenty of insects available as a food source. Our house was great for raising our children. I’m sure it will serve them well too. After their babies are grown and the nest is empty, I’m going to look closely at that nest to see if there are any strands of brown hair woven into it.

Laura Keolanui Stark is keeping an eye on the chicks’ progress and glad she didn’t clean up the hanging baskets when she was supposed to. She can be reached at stark.laura.k@gmail.com.