Hideaway Harvest Surprise

 

Some women get excited about little blue boxes from jewelry stores.

I get excited about little blue eggs discovered in wheat stubble. 

(I guess I wouldn't know whether I'd be just as excited about Tiffany jewelry boxes. But, honestly, I doubt it.)

I took Randy to the field after an early lunch last Friday so he could get started cutting again. As I was turning around to leave, he excitedly waved me over.

"Look what I found!" 

Near the driveway, there was a small nest nestled in wheat stubble. The wheat there had already been cut. But the nest survived.

I moved a few wheat heads over for a photo op to give some context.

 

And when I got back to the house, I messaged my wildlife friend, Pam, asking what kind of nest it might be.

2016, Kim's County Line photo

She thinks it's belongs to a Dickcissel. I've misidentified that same bird in the past, thinking it was a meadowlark, but another Facebook friend pointed out my mistake. 

2019, Kim's County Line photo

They are frequent flyers in our area. I've taken a couple of photos of them as we've fixed fence or been checking pastures. 

Pam told me, "They have unmarked blue eggs and nest in grasses or very low shrubs." Well, wheat is sort of like that, I thought.

I did a little more research about Dickcissels, looking up information on Cornell Lab's All About Birds. I didn't feel so badly about my earlier misidentification, when the Cornell site said that the "chunky grassland bunting is colored like a miniature meadowlark, with a black V on a yellow chest."

The best place to find Dickcissels is in overgrown pastures, savannahs, and croplands in the central Great Plains. ... Their song is fairly short but hard to miss, a clicky buzzing dick-dick-ceessa-ceessa. Watch for males sitting on barbed wire fences, posts, and shrubby trees as they launch into song over and over again.   

Throughout the year Dickcissels require grassland habitats, but they are rarely picky about those habitats. In the summer months they are most common in native prairies and restored grasslands, but they also nest in lightly grazed pastures, hayfields, fallow agricultural fields, and even fence rows and roadsides. Female Dickcissels build the nest, a bulky cup woven out of weeds and grasses. The interior is often lined with fine grass and, sometimes, hair.

Egg Length: 0.8-0.9 in

Egg Width: 0.6-0.7 in

Incubation Period: 12-13 days

Nesting Period: 8-10 days

Egg Description: Unmarked, pale blue

Cornell Lab's All About Birds website

It's kind of like finding a needle in a haystack. Whether the mother finds the nest again, I don't know. But it was still exciting to find our miniature treasure among our "amber waves of grain."

To hear a Dickcissel sing and see it in a natural habitat, click on this link from Cornell.

Backdoor Guests

"Backdoor guests are best."

I've seen the country-style wooden plaques in gift shops that say that. However, I grew up in a rural Kansas farm home. My mom wanted guests to come to the front door. And I'd have to say I agree with her.

At the front door, guests aren't forced to weave their way through the cheat-filled socks and dusty shoes we've shed at the backdoor. They don't see the recycling bins filled with empty cans or the pile of newspapers. They aren't walking past the broom and dustpan that are stashed beside the extra freezer.

If they come to the front door, they can be welcomed into the living room, where there's at least a better chance that things will be picked up and in some semblance of order.

We've had a couple of backdoor guests the past few weeks. As I wrote earlier, Randy and I both tried knocking down a barn swallow nest from our small back porch. 

 

May 2017 - You can see some of the nest-building materials on the bird's beak!

In the end, I guess the birds were more persistent than we were. (Next year, I will definitely try some of the suggestions offered by my Facebook friends, like hanging plastic bags to discourage a new bird suburb development, a move that Shirley called "redneck but effective.")

The pair of barn swallows tolerated us, and we tolerated them. They were often sitting on their nest, but they'd fly away as we approached. As they got used to us, though, they were less likely to hurriedly leave their eggs behind. They usually did swoop quickly out of the way when the back door opened.

The robin's nest - May 8, 2017

The swallow's nest was built so close to the porch ceiling that we couldn't see into the nest, unlike the robin's nest that was constructed on our 4-wheeler racks earlier this spring and which I moved for plenty of "photo ops."

 

Construction of the mud-based nest didn't allow for moving the nest, so we watched and waited. Randy was tall enough he could stick his hand into the nest, and he knew there were eggs there. Then last week, we had a population boom in the neighborhood. 

If we're honest, we've kind of enjoyed our backdoor guests. Well ... except for the bird poo on the steps. Yes, next year, we'll try to do a better job of discouraging the building of a new "house" in the neighborhood. And these guests won't be welcome at the front door either. They give a whole new meaning to the phrase "noisy neighbors."

We thought there were three babies. On Saturday, I discovered there were four, but this was the best I could do with a photo.

A Bird In Hand (Or Nest)

To find the universal elements enough;

to find the air and the water exhilarating;

to be refreshed by a morning walk 

or an evening saunter;

to be thrilled by the stars at night;

to be elated over a bird's nest

or a wildflower in spring ...

these are some of the rewards of the simple life.

                                                             --John Burroughs

I was beginning to think that the old saying, "A watched pot never boils," also applied to watching a bird's nest.

When Randy first discovered the nest in April, there were only two eggs in the nest atop the 4-wheeler ramps.

Then, a few days later, we found four eggs.

Not long afterwards, Randy discovered some delicate blue egg shells at the base of the ramps, and only three eggs were left in the nest. We don't know why one of the eggs toppled to the ground.

We patiently checked the nest every few days, hoping that they would hatch. And they did!

Two of the eggs are now baby birds.

Taken May 8

It's been amazing how quickly they've changed from scrawny, skeletal looking creatures to our feathered friends. We've not sure whether the third egg will hatch, but we doubt it will at this point. (You can see it under the feathers in the photo below.)

Taken May 15 - 1 week later

Initially, we didn't know what bird had laid the eggs. We never saw a mama sitting on the nest.

But now that the babies are hatched, a couple of robins aren't thrilled when I've peered into the nest or moved it to the nearby wheelbarrow for photos. They don't seem to understand that I'm just admiring their handiwork. 

 

Last Friday afternoon, we checked the nest again. As I walked into the shed, one of the babies flew out of the nest!

With its sibling off on an adventure, only one baby still resides in the nest. 

Their parents were none too pleased at the attention we were giving their babies. One led a particularly vocal protest and tried dive-bombing the shed.

Nature is a marvel, isn't it? I took the first nest photos on April 23, just a couple of days after Randy initially discovered the nest. The newly-hatched babies looked like space aliens on May 8. And then, by May 19 - less than a month after we discovered the nest - one robin was already off exploring the world.

Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul.

Emily Dickinson

Hope is the Thing With Feathers

Life is always a rich and steady time

when you are waiting

for something to happen or hatch.

From Charlotte's Web

E.B. White could have been describing life on a farm in the spring.  Randy has been planting corn. We've again opened the pasture gates that were slammed shut and padlocked last fall. Next week, even more mamas and their babies will begin to dine on tender green grass which blankets the pastures after timely spring rains.

Those scenes are part of the ebb and flow of a spring season on the farm. . 

On Saturday, Randy had noticed a nest on top of the 4-wheeler ramps. He excitedly told me about the two pretty blue eggs nestled inside the precariously perched nest in the storage shed. Since it wasn't at our house, I didn't take time to look that day.

However, on Sunday, we needed those 4-wheeler ramps when we had cattle out. I snapped a few photos of the nest, even with the urgency to get the cattle back to the confines of the fence before church.

Randy gently moved the nest to a nearby wheelbarrow ...

... while we used the 4-wheeler ramps for their intended purpose - loading and unloading into the pickup.

 

When we got back to the shed,  Randy again arranged the nest back on top of the ramps.

 

He hoped that the temporary change of address wouldn't bother the birds.

It's one of the things I love about my farmer. Though his hands are big and rough, he is gentle with children and kittens and bird's nests. No scrambled eggs if he could help it!

On Tuesday, we moved another group of mamas and babies to the Ninnescah Pasture. And we also discovered a surprise. The nest now held four beautiful blue eggs!

We still haven't seen any birds tending the nest. I was hoping for robin's eggs, but my friend, Pam, thinks they are starling eggs since we didn't see a mud cap on the nest. (Neither Randy or I are experts in bird - or egg - identification, and Pam is a good sport to help me out long-distance through photos.)

So the nest and its precious contents remain perched on the metal ramps, above an array of farm necessities like net wrap and 4-wheelers and fence chargers and cattle supplies. And we watch with anticipation.

Hope is the thing with feathers 

that perches in the soul.

Emily Dickinson

Hope can even happen before the feathers. Hope can be bright blue eggs in a cluttered farm shed. It's just what we needed right about now.