Blue Bird of Happiness

His dour expression looks familiar. Perhaps a Blue Bird? Identification is not easy before chicks gain their markings and adult form. This fledgling was camped in our Chinese Water Plant, a cool spot under the oaks. Photo by the author.

Breakfast is a ritual at our house, simple fair but a moment to remind each other of what the day holds and watching the birds at our feeder. Karen painted a birdhouse nearly twenty years ago and retirement has given us the leisure to notice what the occupants are up to.  This same couple of Blue Birds (we are convinced) has occupied the house and indulged themselves at our feeder for at least the past seven years or so -maybe much longer if Blue Birds’ lifespans are considerable.

Each year they show up in the same beautifully feathered red and blue attire wearing the same grumpy expressions. They are tireless in excavating last year’s nesting materials and installing all-new, presumably decorator-selected, furnishing. And they don’t just sit on a few eggs and high tale it to Florida when the kids go off to bird college. Looking for something to entertain us during Covid-induced isolation and boredom we have begun to study their habits.

First, our feeder is only a few feet from the Blue Bird honeymoon lodge and maternity ward. We notice that Mr. Blue Bird guards the feeder and seems to be carrying the expectant Mrs. Blue Bird seeds from our larder. By the way, we invest in those expensive hot-pepper seeds that are designed to keep the squirrels away. It works.

When the eggs are hatched, Poppa must seek out and retrieve protein-rich insects for mother while she is sitting on her eggs. The same is true of newborn chicks -apparently the chicks cannot digest seeds. So, Dad is overwhelmed for a while until Mom joins him in the quest for crickets, spiders and bettles -oh, and worms. But worms were scarce because the July weather was so dry. Some years we have seen solo flights as each chick in turn ventures into the world-and we have gone out to see that they were able to reach the shrubbery before a neighborhood cat arrives.

On one of the hottest of July afternoons this summer we were privileged to see four fledglings sit tentatively at the launch pad to the bird house and, after some understandable hesitancy, throw themselves into the real world. One flapped its way into our glass patio door, but quickly recovered and flew away. The fourth chick was the most reluctant. We watched it for about twenty minutes as it built up its courage, inspired by Mom who was still inside the family home. He just sat there for an hour or so.  Finally, he launched into a sinking dive as we bit our nails. But he skittered across the deck and tool off again.

We thought we had said farewell to both parents and offspring, but no, they are all still here. Dad has taught the fledglings that the feeder is the best free meal in town. This has not been easy on the fledglings. At first the chicks were willing to sit at the feeder while Dad selected the seeds and poked them into the kids’ beaks. Finally, a breakthrough occurred as each one in turn caught on. Now they own the place. They are a very territorial crew and systematically menace the cardinals, chickadees and even the fearsome looking  Blue Jays. Only the Ladderback Woodpecker scares them off their perches.  The babies are messy eaters and leave a bounty scattered on the ground for the doves -which we can hear cooing but cannot see until they take off as a flock when we go out the back door.

Mom and Dad Blue Bird have become amorous again, so again this summer we will have at least two hatches of these remarkable little creatures We are going broke as gas and bird seed prices eat up our meager retirement income.