There’s been some degree of nervousness on my part – I suppose all expectant fathers feel the same way. The blackbirds weren’t seen around the nest for some time – at least a week I would guess. It was hard to tell because anything can happen while I’m at work of course. I’d noticed a new cat in the neighbourhood and I’d reached a level of concern that the parents might’ve been frightened off the nest, or even worse – they weren’t to been seen anywhere either. I did hold some hope because the nest was intact, and it stayed that way, even though there are plenty of sparrows wanting to get nesting materials.
Last Sunday I noticed the hen bird was sitting on the nest – I ran around the house finding both sets of binoculars, and the camera. I didn’t want to lumber out and scare the hen the way I’d feared the cat had. The photos I took were dreadful – a brown smudge in a triumph of greenery – a perfect demonstration of the concealment of the nest.
Finally the hen left the nest – put some money in the parking meter – who knows. I managed to go to the nest and get photos of the eggs, without disturbing the hen. Three eggs, greeny-blue, with purpley-brown speckles. Not striking like the sky-blue of thrush eggs, rather more subdued.
I’m assuming now that the nest had been left for the week after completion for the mud to dry, or perhaps the couple had a contract to complete elsewhere, or a quick trip to Rarotonga for some RnR before the baby-making got serious. All I know is I’m really pleased to see the eggs and the nest and the family in the making.
My version of Wallace Stevens’s haiku:
I was of three minds,
Like a nest
In which there are three blackbirds.
Speaking of family, one of my must-read bloggers, Trevor Romain, has illustrated one of my favorite songs.