Tag: birds

Little Bit
animals · birds · Nature · Nature photography · Short story · Summer · Writing

Little Bit

Amy28 Comments

It all started yesterday morning when I was out watering the plants in the front yard. I water the plants every morning because it’s summer and it gets hot. If I don’t water, the hydrangea looks like it’s on its last legs by noon. To be honest, it looks like that throughout the day, and then I have to water it again, but that’s a different story.

I was watering the plants per usual when I saw a tiny bird hopping in the grass toward the sidewalk and ultimately toward the road. As soon as I realized what was happening, I grabbed some vinyl gloves and hastily put them on as I hoped to reach the bird before she made it into the road. She did get to the road, but I got to her in time and scooped her up. Not sure what to do, I placed the bird – which I believed to be either an American Robin or a Bluejay – under my Eastern Redbud (ERJ, for those who have been here a while and are familiar with him).

Aerial view

I went out to check on the bird midday and couldn’t find her anywhere. It was quite hot and I did a thorough sweep of the front and backyard. Twice. I couldn’t find her. An adult robin flew to the space under the tree where I had put the baby and chirped for about five minutes. I realized this was the baby’s mother, and she could not locate her baby. I tried once again to find the baby bird with no luck.

A few hours passed and I sat down to eat my dinner. I took a couple bites, looked out the window, and saw the baby hopping around near ERJ. I immediately swung into action, not even wiping my mouth nor realizing there was food in my hair. I put on some gloves, and flew out the door (no pun intended). I scooped up Little Bit (her new name) and my first thought was the mother left the baby after not being able to locate her earlier in the day. My second thought was not really a thought, but a perception. I formed a cup with both of my hands around this tiny little breathing warm baby with a tiny little rapid heartbeat and watched her fall asleep. It was in that moment I fell in love with Little Bit and was determined to save her.

Sleepy Little Bit

I was still in my bathrobe and slippers with food in my hair and with a face probably covered in food, when I walked over to a neighbor’s house and asked them to come look in the tree for a nest in another neighbor’s yard. I’m sure these guys thought I was a crazy bird lady and they’re not wrong, but they humored me. After about 10 minutes, they did find the remnants of a nest, but it was not inhabitable. By this time, my neighbor who lived in the house with the land that held the tree with the uninhabitable nest, came out and inquired about this activity. Her cat, who does sneak out and knows how to open doors, was very interested in the bird. (Don’t worry, she wasn’t able to get out.)

The men took their leave, unable to assist, though they did try. I still held Little Bit in both of my hands and she remained asleep. She liked when I pet her head. By this time, the mother robin realized I had the baby and was nearby chirping to it. Unfortunately, the baby was asleep. I wasn’t sure what would happen if if I removed one of my hands, but decided I needed to because I needed to consult Google ASAP. The bird sanctuary was closed and I had no other resources available to me to be able to figure out what to do with this baby bird.

Sweet and Sassy Little Bit

I walked around towards the backyard, hoping the mother would follow. She did, but I still didn’t know what to do. I took my hand away and was able to get into my phone. I Googled, “What do I do with a baby bird?” I found that if the bird can hop, it is a fledgling and it has been nudged out of the nest intentionally. In the fledgling stage, the mother puts the bird in a spot and stays nearby while it learns how to be a big grown-up bird. The problem with Little Bit was she didn’t stay where she was put. And she didn’t answer her mother when her mother called for her midday.

Armed with this information – thanks Google – I proceeded back to the front yard. I kneeled in the grass near ERJ and put my hand against the ground. I opened it up and waited for Little Bit to step out into the grass. The mother had returned and was waiting at the very top of the Weeping Cherry Tree. Little Bit jumped out of my hand and immediately proceeded to poop in the grass. Her mother was chirping to her, and had been for several minutes. Little Bit began chirping back and followed the sound of her mother. I removed my gloves and watched for a few more seconds until the baby bird got under the canopy of the tree and the mother came down to greet her. I went inside and thought how lovely it was to interact with a small creature so helpless and be able to offer her help by keeping her out of the road. I had been terribly depressed yesterday, and the distraction and the joy that bird gave me exponentially lifted my spirits.

I went out later to check on mother and baby, but couldn’t find either one of them. Google told me that the mother will find shelter and stay close by at night until the baby is ready to be on her own. So I no longer was worried about predators eating the baby at night. I assumed she would make it because I didn’t want to think about the alternative. I still don’t. 

I found out later I didn’t need to wear gloves when touching the baby, that it was not true that a bird will abandon a baby if it smells a human scent on the baby. They will not reject it. In my case, though, I am terribly allergic to birds and would have had to wear gloves anyway. I was experiencing a little bit of a wheeze while holding her, but I wasn’t about to let her go until I knew she would be OK.

This morning, I went out to water my plants – the hydrangea was already acting dramatic with limp leaves and sagging blooms and it wasn’t even 10 AM. It’s always high drama with the beautiful hydrangea. It’s the diva of the yard. I didn’t see a baby or a mother. At least not until I got the peanuts out and started dispersing them for the Morning Feeding. There is a robin who lives in the tree next door (the location of the uninhabitable nest), who comes every morning for a lovely peanut breakfast. Robins don’t normally eat peanuts, but this one enjoys them. She has been coming for months. I know it’s Little Bit’s mom.

Google told me that baby robins stay in the same general area as their nest once they’ve grown into adulthood. In fact, when their parents die, they will often take over the same nesting area. It also told me that robins are among the birds that recognize human faces.

I know when I said goodbye to Little Bit like an anxious auntie, that it wasn’t goodbye, it was see you later.

I know you’ll like the peanuts just as much as your mom. See you soon!

Releasing Little Bit
The Reunion

P.S. if you think I didn’t get cursed out in meow language by Susie when I came in the house at 7 PM you are wrong. Susie was extremely upset that I was outside playing with a baby bird and she was stuck in the house. Susie was born in this house and has never been outside, so I don’t know what her beef was, but she definitely was angry. I have never seen her so upset. I wanted to talk to her about it and I did ask, but she refused.

Susie refuses to talk

©️2024, itsamyisaid.com. All Rights Reserved.

Mourning Dove Love
animals · birds · conservation · daily prompt · Humor · Love · Nature · Nature photography · Summer

Mourning Dove Love

Amy9 Comments

Are there things you try to practice daily to live a more sustainable lifestyle?

I didn’t want to answer this prompt by saying, “I recycle, reuse and repurpose,” not because I don’t do those things (I do), but because I felt like it would be a common answer. After a bit of deliberation, I found my prompt answer in an unusual spot. It seems the mourning doves felt very comfortable and a bit frisky in the front flower bed this morning.

That got me thinking. I have noticed there are teenaged squirrels in the backyard and teenaged starlings at the birdbath.

Thus, my contribution to sustainability is providing a natural reproductive habitat for birds, rodents, insects, and possibly Toady McToaderson – if he can find his mate one of these nights. Poor Toady.

Mourning Doves feeling the love
Spring Photos
animals · birds · cats · Flowers · Nature · Nature photography · Photography

Spring Photos

Amy25 Comments

I’ve been capturing a lot of flowers lately. We’re still waiting on the Calla lilies, the daisies, the clematis and the hydrangea. Everything else is blooming or almost done blooming. Special bonus photos at the bottom.

DIANTHUS!!! (Yes, I’m yelling – look at this thing!)
White peony with dashes of pink. Yes, they smell divine. Unfortunately, the rains have decimated the peonies.
This is my lavender seedling. Unfortunately, the rains have caused this little guy to struggle. Lavender does not like a lot of rain, and that’s all the skies are giving.
BLUE HASTA is taking up so much space I had to clip some of the leaves in the back of the plant so that the Calla lilies could survive. They are not quite blooming.
Wild strawberry growing amongst the clover.
Coral-colored rose. Yes, it smells divine.
Susie watching birds.
Ma’am. I can’t resist her little hands folded like that. Yesterday we almost had a crisis, however. Ma’am was over-eager for the peanuts and tried to enter the house. Crisis averted.
Don’t ask me how, but I captured this male cardinal in mid-flight. He loves peanuts. He will yell at me through the window if he sees me in the house. He doesn’t go to bed until very late, and will yell at me until about 8:30pm. I yell back that he should be in bed by now, he’s a bird.

©️2024, itsamyisaid.com, all rights reserved

As The Crow Flies
animals · birds · Nature · Short story

As The Crow Flies

Amy81 Comments 
To go as the crow flies is to take the most direct route somewhere. Going as the crow flies is the shortest path between two points.

This expression has to do with traveling—in a very specific way. If you travel as the crow flies, you've gone somewhere as quickly and directly as possible. A shortcut is a good way to go as the crow flies. A direct airplane flight with no transfers is another way to go as the crow flies. When you think of this term, imagine a bird flying in a straight line from point A to point B.

I moved to the state I live in now when I was just turning seven. For reasons, Mom and I were graciously taken in by family members who lived one state away from our previous home. It wasn’t terribly far, but to a six-year-old, an hour-long car ride seems like a great distance to travel.

From there, Mom and I moved across a two-lane highway – which is now a four-lane highway – to an apartment complex. We lived there for seven years.

Mom found her final home in a neighborhood she admired for years and would drive through on her way to pick me up from my friend’s house.

I just realized the other day, that if you plot all three of these points of residence on a map, the triangle is very small. In fact, I determined that the distance from Point A to Point B to Point C forms a very small triangle, with each arm of the triangle being about 300m. 300m translates to 0.186 miles.

Some people may think this is incredibly isolating and not very worldly, but it was entirely coincidental and not planned, as far as I know. And since I didn’t even realize it until a few days ago, I guess it could be a statement about how much I like my neighborhood and my surroundings.

You guys know Jerome, right? He’s my crow. Well, it’s more true to form to say that he is my nemesis. He is the crow that’s mad at me for eternity because I wouldn’t let him put his dirty bagels and french fries in the birdbath. He and his friends and family caw at me as I’m walking in the neighborhood. If I’m at the local pharmacy and strip mall, they’ll do it there, too. They somehow know when to show up. If I walk out of my house and Jerome starts cawing from somewhere far enough away that I can’t see him, but close enough that I can hear him, I know I’m in for quite a mouthful. Other people have crows bring them money and shiny objects. Jerome has given me intergenerational hatred. I would prefer money or shiny objects, at the very least.

This is not Jerome. But Jerome would do this: join a gang of crows and become violent against ravens and also me, most likely

“I hear you, Jerome! Good morning to you, too!” I say loudly. I’m sure my neighbors think I’m crazy, but that crow and I have beef. I wonder how old Jerome is, and how long he’s been watching me. Maybe his great-grandfather, grandfather and father saw me at Points A and B. Point C is Jerome’s territory now, as the crows fly.

This guy is getting paid CASH by crows!

©️2024, itsamyisaid.com, all rights reserved 

Bert Pinkfoot
daily prompt · Nature · Writing

Bert Pinkfoot

Amy7 Comments

If I started a sports team, it would be racing pigeons, and their mascot would be Bert Pinkfoot.

Bert Pinkfoot was a racing pigeon who absconded a race and somehow ended up in my backyard. I knew he was a racing pigeon because he had green bands on both ankles. He was also rather tame. He arrived several Septembers ago, and I knew he wasn’t from around here, because we don’t have many pigeons where I live. That and the bands, as I mentioned. There are plenty of mourning doves, but no pigeons.

I immediately called the local bird sanctuary, and asked about this racing pigeon in my backyard, who had attracted a local flock of doves. As a matter of fact, all the female doves were quite impressed with Bert and tried to get his attention. Bert was a working man, he was a racing bird, and he was not interested in any female attention (this is when some doves cried).

The woman at the bird sanctuary told me that Bert likely left a race. My understanding is these birds race from point A to point B and back to point A, as pigeons are trained to do. She told me it was likely if I tried to return the bird to its owner, the owner would likely kill the bird because he absconded the race and lost the owner money. She also said that there had been a race about 300 miles north, and that he probably was from that race.

I wasn’t sure what to do with Bert. I had already been feeding and giving water to the “normal” birds, so he had a bit of an all-you- can eat buffet and sanctuary in my backyard. The woman also told me that he’d be likely to be eaten by hawks because he was raised to be a racing pigeon, and had no true exposure to the outside, natural world. At least not while he was trying to sleep.

Bert hung around for several weeks, though he never joined in with the doves. He tolerated his distant cousins, and maybe he found solace with them. We’ll never know why he left the race – whether he was seeking freedom or he got lost – but after about two weeks, Bert was no longer in my backyard. I didn’t see him again. I like to think he found his freedom and flew to a nearby city to be with his brethren city pigeons. I don’t think of the alternative.

Bert Pinkfoot

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