Spoiler alert: this post has nothing to do with twitter. Something magical occurred in my hanging plant this spring. Shut up, I know there are birds everywhere making baby birds every spring, but this shit went down on my front porch. It’s like a nature reserve in your front yard.
I was totally smitten with these darling eggs, which were eventually replaced by the below not-so-darling baby birds. I thought baby insert-any-animal-name-here were supposed to be cute. When do they get cute?
Alright, they’re sort of cute when they’re hungry, but I still think they looked like feathery aliens at this point. Mama bird, you’re slackin’, we need some ABC (that’s already been chewed for anyone who doesn’t remember elementary school recess conversations as well as I do) worms over here, stat!
Once they got a little bigger and acquired some real feathers they started to look less like aliens, though they got considerably noisier (not to mnetion smellier). At this point my short ass dogs became really pissed off that they couldn’t reach to eat them.
Downsides to baby birds in your hanging plant, besides the late stage smelliness? Apparently mama bird is a total asshole, because I discovered the fuzz she used when building the nest is from my outdoor chair cushions. See Exhibit A below. Thanks for that, mama bird. You couldn’t have used some more sticks and shit instead?
It was also rather difficult to, you know, deliver life-sustaining water to said hanging planter while trying not to soak the nest. See Exhibit B below. Perhaps this was partially my fault seeing as I did forget to water the plant entirely for a solid 4 days. Oops.
The babies flew the coop the other day, never to be seen again (tear-they grow up so fast!) and they were totally worth the eventual and inevitable demise of my plant. (We all know I was going to forget to water it anyway).
Any backyard nature-ness going on in anyone else’s yard?
psst! I took all these photos using full-on manual mode on my camera. Bam! Making some progress with my photography skills.