So...I know you were all sitting at home strumming over the birds we relocated from the light fixture on our back porch.
OK, did anyone remember that we relocated the birds?
Because we did. I know that you probably remember EVERYTHING I say, so if you read the rapidly-growing list of blog posts about the birds which have decided to nest on my house, you probably read about Mr. Always Random moving the nest.
And if you somehow missed this IMPORTANT information, consider yourself caught up.
Mr. Always Random moved the nest from the back porch to a nearby curve in the gutter...just like the sloppy nest from a few days ago.
Only this one is just off the back porch...so not too far from it's original location, but just far enough to be confusing.
I was feeling extremely guilty because a couple days after we moved it, a broken robin's egg was lying on the ground under the back porch light. Clearly she knew the nest had been there and waited until the very last minute to get to the nest to lay it.
Either that or she simply couldn't find it.
And I can't say with 100% positivity (yes, I'm sure that's a word) that it's the same bird, but a robin is nesting in the nest we moved.
I assume it is the same robin...but it's not like I banded her.
And she does seem a little bit skittish...wouldn't you be if you know exactly where you left your house and when you returned it was no longer there?
It would rattle me, I have to admit.
And I can't get a picture of her in the nest because of it.
So you'll just have to imagine that she's there.
And no, Christine, I won't be able to get pictures inside that nest either. But I imagine it looks something like this:
Let's use our imaginations, shall we?
One other item of business before I wrap up this riveting installment of "Alfred Hitchcock's 'The Birds'"...clearly one of our feathered friends has not lived to tell the tale.
These little feathers are spread out across an approximate area of 3 feet by 3 feet. I can only presume it's the fat tabby (who is either well-fed from a home, a good mouser/hunter, or a combination there of) who has taken to sleeping under our deck at night. That goes over well with Indy, as you can well imagine.
Look at that...using our imaginations again.
Mr. Rogers would be so proud. (And if you don't know who Mr. Fred Rogers is...shame on you! Google it please!)
Sorry to end on a bit of a downer...but it's off to lacrosse practice and a soccer game for me! Have a fabulous evening!