Backyard Bystander: Neighborly Encounters
After some deliberation, we decided to allow a nest where we were applying our siding. This is when being a birder need overrides the DIY need.
We waited and watched and discovered it was a Western Pee Wee nest and once some adjustments were made, like abandoning our al fresco dining table and moving the grill, we all settled into an amicable arrangement.
They got used to be clambering in and out of my reading hammock and a routine developed.
At night, once it was cooler, the Pee Wees would provide an arial show. They would perch on my spare hammock (a sacrifice on my part) and survey the scene and then suddenly perform acrobatic maneuvers as they grabbed a bug. It was difficult to read they were so entertaining.
We anticipated the secondary show: feeding the babies.
But I noticed something odd about the Pee Wee nursery. Instead of three or four babies it appeared only one little mouth would be evident when mom or dad popped in with a meal.
Over the next couple of days it became clear that wasn’t a pee wee chick in the nest. It grew larger and larger until I came to conclusion the Pee Wees were nurturing a cowbird.
As a bird lover it’s difficult to admit cowbirds are not appreciated. AT ALL.
If interested here’s a link to better understand why they are at the bottom of my bird list.
I think the Pee awe parents caught on that something was amiss as well. After two weeks when the cowbird interloper had grown so big it was twice the size of its parents I observed a very strange interaction.
The parent flew up to the nest and fed their feathered charge and instead of flying away, like it usually does, it stared at the fledgling (for by now it was fully feathered) as if studying it, perhaps puzzled by this humongous nestling it had been diligently feeding.
And then the strange part. Usually the cowbird fledg would open its beak indicating a desire for more food. Instead it turned its back to the Pee Wee and faced the wall, as if it was putting itself in time out, or wanted to get away from the Pee Wee’s scrutiny.
Well, maybe I’m overthinking the incident, although it was strange.
Two days later the fledgling is gone. This means the Pee Wees are gone. The Hubs is going through Pee Wee withdrawal.
We had developed a respectful camaraderie with our little feathered friends. They would perched nearby as we sat out back (we couldn’t give up all our patio area) and hang out before feeding The Kid (this is perhaps the most neutral nickname—did I mention I’m not a fan of cowbirds?)
They are darned personable little birds, almost cartoonish with large eyes, squatty body, and crew cut.
They will definitely be missed. Well, we still have the robins for entertainment and hummingbirds for wow factor.
Anyone have a nesting story to share?
Pam Webb 