Periodically I stop at Landlady’s house to check mousetraps and generally try to keep entropy to a minimum. This morning I was greeted on the porch by an intermittent but rather loud rustling noise, and I couldn’t find the source at first. I went inside and cleaned out mousetraps, came back outside and there was that noise again.
I finally decided that it was coming from a long slender box standing on its end in a corner. Must have held a rug or something; I’ll probably take it away and burn it once I’ve confirmed that Landlady doesn’t want it. Anyway, it’s open at the top and I figured that somehow a rat had checked it out and couldn’t get out.
I laid the box down on its side and sat on the woodbox/bench to observe what finally emerged. It only took a minute or two, and … it was no rat. It was a fully fledged but still baby Phoebe, no doubt from the nest a lady Phoebe annually makes up in a sheltered part of Landlady’s porch.
That explained the bird that had watched the whole thing with great interest from a deck post.
OK. You caught me. Had to look this one up. Looks like a more or less standard bravo one romeo delta to me. Guess I’ll have to come up on my Audubon Guide. I’d hate to be shown up by some generic desert hermit
Generic? I’ll have you know I’m an outstanding desert hermit. 😉
Or perhaps geriatric? 🙂
My first thought was that it, whatever “it” might be, was female and kinda’ wondered what the male term for it might be. OK, my TI back in the 60’s was right — Ahma dumbshit.
God works in strange ways. Happenstance you were checking, that you heard the noise and went to investigate. Saved the bird and made things right with mamabird. You done your boy scout deed for the day and accrued at least one attabird pat on the back. 😉
Will that bird now fly down your chimney at the Lair and give Laddie some entertainment???