YAY! the starling fledglings are just out of the nest that their parents have built up in the eaves above the window here!!
About a month ago, I was noticing that I had yet to replace last years dead flowers from my terracotta planter out on my window ledge. I should really get to that I was thinking.
Then, one morning, I noticed some movement out there through the slots of the Venetian blinds, and saw that it was a starling.
I slowly moved up towards the window, hoping that she wouldnt see the movement and fly off, and she didnt.
She was in there rooting around and tugging on the dead cottony blossoms. Shed pack her beak up with a starling sized bale, and fly up into the eaves with it.
Ahh, lining her nest!
Well, shit, I cant throw those flowers out now.
I reached out the window later that day to see what those blossoms felt like, and they were actually still pretty soft.
I went into the bathroom cabinet, where there are still some of those round cotton swabs left from when R still lived here, and I took a few of them and shredded them apart. Then I reached out and wrapped those long white puffs all around the dead stems of last years flowers, thinking that the starlings just may use it as a part of their nest building material.
When I came home from work that day, most of what I had layed out was gone. I put some more out there and closed the blinds again. The next morning, sitting here at the computer, I saw movement again. There was the same starling in there, ripping off the cotton shreds and flying up into the eaves, but there was also a sparrow patiently waiting its turn in the branches of the tree a few feet out. The two of them systematically cleaned all the cotton off of that planter over the next few days, and then they stopped. Guess they were done lining their nests.
Watching this wobbly, grey little bird out there in the tree right now makes me feel kinda happy. Knowing that of all the other neighborhood preschooler starlings, this one in particular had the most comfy bed.
Man, theyre like little kids. Its just in the tree there, pecking at nothing in particular, and the way its moving its head around reminds me of a puppy cocking its head at all the new sounds. Its having some difficulty keeping its balance, but it seems happy enough.
Its another sunny day, and Im off to my little black room under the stairs now.
and oh yeah. I'm going to call today.
About a month ago, I was noticing that I had yet to replace last years dead flowers from my terracotta planter out on my window ledge. I should really get to that I was thinking.
Then, one morning, I noticed some movement out there through the slots of the Venetian blinds, and saw that it was a starling.
I slowly moved up towards the window, hoping that she wouldnt see the movement and fly off, and she didnt.
She was in there rooting around and tugging on the dead cottony blossoms. Shed pack her beak up with a starling sized bale, and fly up into the eaves with it.
Ahh, lining her nest!
Well, shit, I cant throw those flowers out now.
I reached out the window later that day to see what those blossoms felt like, and they were actually still pretty soft.
I went into the bathroom cabinet, where there are still some of those round cotton swabs left from when R still lived here, and I took a few of them and shredded them apart. Then I reached out and wrapped those long white puffs all around the dead stems of last years flowers, thinking that the starlings just may use it as a part of their nest building material.
When I came home from work that day, most of what I had layed out was gone. I put some more out there and closed the blinds again. The next morning, sitting here at the computer, I saw movement again. There was the same starling in there, ripping off the cotton shreds and flying up into the eaves, but there was also a sparrow patiently waiting its turn in the branches of the tree a few feet out. The two of them systematically cleaned all the cotton off of that planter over the next few days, and then they stopped. Guess they were done lining their nests.
Watching this wobbly, grey little bird out there in the tree right now makes me feel kinda happy. Knowing that of all the other neighborhood preschooler starlings, this one in particular had the most comfy bed.
Man, theyre like little kids. Its just in the tree there, pecking at nothing in particular, and the way its moving its head around reminds me of a puppy cocking its head at all the new sounds. Its having some difficulty keeping its balance, but it seems happy enough.
Its another sunny day, and Im off to my little black room under the stairs now.
and oh yeah. I'm going to call today.
wtf:
Good for you. Sometimes, looking back, the fear leading up to things was a lot worse than the actual thing itself. Hope everything turns out.
lavinia:
AW!