I know! You thought that because Mrs. and her fledglings seemed to be goners, that I would stop watching their nest, right? Wrong! Mr. sat and howled redundantly for two days and then disappeared for a day.
He looked like this.
I will never know if the nestlings fledged…any of them, successfully. I have no idea if Mrs. was just off with them, doing flight lessons. He appeared to be widowed by all of his behaviours, but what do I know? Of course I then went to a variety of sites to read about the widows of the nest. Interesting stuff. I learned that even while building a nest and establishing a family unit, Mr. goes off routinely and messes around. It isn’t unusual for the male sparrows to go off and find a mistress when they have been widowed and visa versa for the female sparrows. I’m guessing with the huge magpie and grackle populations and with a lot of outdoor cats, the incidents of loss are also huge
I’ve looked at the images and I can’t really tell if Mrs. is Mrs. or if it is in fact, a new partner at the nest, but today…after days of beating around the grief bush, there is another.
This is the last photo I have of Mrs. the day before Mr. was spotted alone.
This is lady-friend (Mrs.?) this morning.
They all look the same…right?
I’m just happy that Mr. is wearing a smile again.
He’s doing a bit of performance puffing…she’s doing this jittery thing with her wings.
In following them to the feeder, I DID see a juvenile in high branches and a female feed it and then encourage it higher, into the branches above the house. I’m wondering, of course, if the female and maybe one, two or three successful fledges weren’t just held up in high branches. One will never know…but certainly, it makes for a good story! lol
Above…the lady of the house doing her wing shakes. The story continues.
It was just yesterday that I photographed Mr.’s beautiful family…three babes and his lovely Mrs.
However, last evening held a huge wind storm and a driving rain. This morning held no cries and demands from the nest. I noticed as I was pouring my first cup of coffee. It appeared that Mr. and Mrs. were hanging onto the duct tape searching into the nest, when an angry male (actual Mr.) swooped in with tremendous aggression…the female flying away and the male battling with Mr. and falling to the ground. Mr. then moved in to his territory…but, alone. It was such a sad sight. I’m imagining that some situation was encountered in the night that left Mrs. fighting on behalf her young ones. For some reason I’m not imagining a positive outcome and I feel a sense of loss.
Dad made himself as large as he could at the entrance to the nest all morning long and still calls out redundantly from the eve’s trough. Instinctively, his role has disappeared. I wonder how long before he accepts his loss.
Alright, the neighbourhood is booming with fledglings of every sort and Mr. & Mrs. of every nest, freaking out about the flying faux pas! Blackbirds…maybe grackles…whatever-they-are are not my favourites when it comes to their demeanor at the bird feeder. However, they too, are struggling with their youngsters. I couldn’t understand what all of the ruckus was about, but then found that Mrs. was yapping away at this youngster, sitting, paralyzed with fear on my backyard fence. Enter Kath into the back yard and the loud Max-barking from inside the house, and this wee guy left the fence to light into one of May’s branches. In taking a look at the fledgling’s tail feathers, I’d say that something is terribly wrong and that he isn’t doing well with flight, as a result.
The community of blackbirds is taking great interest in the poor guy’s foibles. When I left them, he was sitting atop another neighbour’s garage roof, storm clouds gathering to the west. I learned recently that it is a major accomplishment for a magpie to live beyond one year…there are so many natural and person-made challenges that await them. I suppose it is a good thing for the parents to hatch as many eggs as possible to increase the chances of any survival at all. I continue to be amazed by the happenings in nature.
Early morning was magical. Max and I took a stroll of the neighbourhood…checked out the recent blooms and took our time honouring the beauty of the quiet and the light spilling over everything. The magpie babes are growing in independence, three of them at one point, lined up on a garden fence squawking at us. Even as we stood still, they stared us down and in tandem, belted out their annoyance with us. Their tail feathers are growing longer.
At our own nest, the first siting of at least two young ones. They bopped their heads out of the nest to meet the offerings of Mrs. She astutely pushed them deeper into the nest again and again.
A cat was sitting boldly on our front door step, but Max quickly took care of that. The neighbourhood is alive with energy, struggle and beauty. Life is a marvelous thing.
(by 2 in the afternoon, I had seen a line up of two fledglings being fed by both Mr. & Mrs, but only caught two at any time in photographs)
While walking Max the other evening, I had a chance to watch three magpie fledglings hang out on a big tree branch, with Mr. and Mrs. squawking enthusiastically in a neighbouring tree. Today, I happened by one of the three and watched the poor guy thump into the sides of houses, grasp desperately at a down spout, waddle, in a daze, across a busy street and finally come to rest on a doorstep, seeming to ask if he might enter for a refreshment. Mr. and Mrs. dive-bombed over and over again, encouraging the poor guy to get some altitude before the feral cats happened upon this lost pup and tried to send this amateur photographer to vamoose!
I followed the little guy (notice the length of its tail feathers) while it bopped from a door step to a bike, into a potted floral arrangement and then, finally, into a tree.
Mr. and Mrs. yapped loudly from the tree…the best they can do for flying lessons.
Mom and Dad became far less dramatic and there was a communal sigh of relief as the fledgling made it into the lower branches of a tree.
Since my first years of making my nest on the University of Lethbridge campus and living in residence edging on the coulees, I’ve developed a love for the magpies. Perched in the dry towering trees along the Oldman River, their brilliant plumage was dazzling blue in the sunshine. They were always companions on long walks in and out of town. They are, in some way, a part of who I’ve become.
My Retirement Series painted by my dear friend, Bob Melville. One painting for each of the last ten months of my career.
I will photograph other pieces in my magpie collection and get them posted here.
There are other people as obsessed with watching birds as I am! Look at this footage!
