Not such a good place for this:
I poke around in this, deadhead the flowers, fertilize it with Osmocot, drench it with water. Do your young need that?
What were you thinking? Just because the basket looks like nesting material, and is easy to get to, does not mean that it is a good idea. You placed your nest above the dog door, were you just going to let your baby chick flop out into the waiting mouth of a hungry Labrador? Or worse, be dragged into the house by one of the miserable cats in a sadistic, feral moment?
I do not appreciate you scolding me from on top of the fig tree, nor do I appreciate your shrewish partner dive bombing my shins.
You are a very lazy bird. Next time try real estate in say.... oh.... any one of the many trees in the Santa Cruz Mountains, there are one or two, here and there.
Respectfuly,
The Gardener.
(This little story ended in tragedy, hence my cautionary tale for future bird parents in my neighborhood who are eyeing my hanging baskets as potential real estate booty: DON'T. Last Saturday I went to deadhead the pansies in the basket. The basket exploded with baby birds, seemed like hundreds, turned out to be just one. Mama bird and Papa bird started flying at my head and shins, scolding me furiously, Junior fled into the veggie patch, and then into the blackberry brambles. I moved their "nest" into the brambles in the hopes that Junior, nest and parents would all find each other. The chick was not at a stage where it could fly. The photographs were taken yesterday after I had assured myself that the birds had not moved back into their nest. The egg pictured in the nest did not hatch; I have to think that maybe the Osmocot and the regular waterings had something to with that. I am truly traumatized by the whole event, knowing that I am the likely cause of that chick's demise.)
No comments:
Post a Comment