We have a clutch of robin’s eggs in the shed. Three nearly hairless little birds, asleep whenever I look at them. That means we will have to try and keep the shed from falling down before they fledge.
H.W. discovered them; he was always seeing the robin in the same place, looking “up to something”.
The mother, and possibly father (sometimes there’s two), it’s true, are always boinging around in the area, like they’re on springs, the way robins do. Usually there’s something hanging out of the beak, too, so they’re working hard bringing up the babies.
I just learned that crows (I admire, adore, respect, revere corvids) are primarily an urban bird, and a formidable predator to most songbirds. So if crows show up here, it will be because we drew them here, providing them with resources. I plan to try to deter them, to preserve the bird life that was flourishing here before we got here. Crows are flourishing all over the world because of their brains and adaptability, but the songbirds they predate are threatened and in retreat everywhere that people expand their habitation into rural areas. I want to protect and encourage the local birds that were here before we were.
There’s been one crow that flies over high and fast in a straight line midmorning, then returns four or five hours later. She’s shown no sign of stopping. When he passes he riles up the hawk and owls – they all talk. I remarked the crows really do sound different here, from B.C. crows, having just read about regional differences in corvid sounds. H.W. said “Mmm, the Maritime accent?”
A few birds need to be encouraged to stay. Swallows (and bats too). We could stand for a whole lot more blackflies to get swallowed. There’s a house up the road that has dozens of birdhouses up, and the air and wires around them are filled with tree swallows, so they’re doing something right. I hope it’s an if you build it they will come scenario.