Bird Moms: Literally

Apparently this has not been the year to succeed in the streak for pediatric stroke.  I keep thinking of things to write, and then I keep doing things like counting seedlings, attending way too many end-of-the-year "things", going to bed at a reasonable hour, or volunteering to make a 9 x 13 banana pudding for an end of the year teacher lunch via our church (the last one baffles me a little, too).

On the long list of "maybe I should write about X" was a piece on bird parents.  The geese, swans, and ducks in Ugly were so different from each other, and so like my observations of ducks (short term pairing, if at all), swans (protective) and geese (actual families).  The D.C. bald eagles (who, at two months, look like black eagles, instead of fluff balls (1-2 weeks) or gray things with giant talons (at a month) have had full parental support from both parents all along.  The gangly, awkward condor chick always seems to be alone, and the barred owl parents are now alone, all three owlets having grown up and "flown the coop", while the barn owl eggs are now fluff with owl faces, seemingly carefully tended.

The mockingbird (wanna-be) dad successfully kept the Mississippi Kites from nesting in our yard this year; a bonus if we want to actually spend time in the garden. A brown thrasher pair has spent considerable time in our yard, perhaps nesting in the honeysuckle.  Of course, if you want to see bird parenting extremes, you could watch March of the Penguins.  But the big deal this year are robins nesting in the euonymous by my parents' front door.  Cool things happen in bird year (but I have no pictures, so here is a larkspur photo taken last summer with a flash).