Your story speaks to my heart of Blue Bird experiences! Thank you. Through the years, I’ve noticed that after the baby Blue Birds fledge, the Mom hits the road (unless she stays for another round.) The Dad takes over the care of the fledglings, with feeding and teaching for several/many weeks going forward.
How many families of bluebirds would you guess you've watched growing up in your back garden by now, Danyce? You probably have a better sense of them than most, certainly more than me. I seldom encounter bluebirds close up. You are kind of a bluebird whisperer.
I'm told that Goldfinches behave much the same, papa taking over the task of rearing the littles, but not all species of birds share the familial responsibilities so equitably. Apparently Daddy Lazuli is as likely to be a no-show as not. Guess we all know, or at least know of humans who fail to show up in much the same way.
Thank you for weighing in and adding to the conversation...
Lancelot was the first Dad, with two mates and three rounds of babies! Then came another four seasons of Blue Birds families. For the last two seasons, the back yard box was not chosen, but I’ve had two summers of multiple Dads with their broods, eating mill worms from the front and back feeders. Through the years, they have all added so much magic to life! I highly recommend the journey…
Little Miss nodding off after your tender rescue and encouragement - how beautiful is that! I fear I might have held my breath the entire time watching these encounters. So glad they trusted you with their story, David.
I'm just in awe here, Dave! Wow---Lazuli Bunting magic, full on! Truly a gift---you right there at that exact moment in time. I'm just staring at all your marvy pics and enjoying the dynamic events!
Ohhh---how in the world!? I'm so glad you lifted the littlest Lazuli back up to a safe perch, there to relax and be fed. You cupped her in your hands, you lifted her up and set her down safe---I'm smiling so big, feeling totes full of wonder, like a little kid!
And she knew she was safe---those pics of the little nap, and then the mama bunting feeding her are incredible. I loved seeing these moments so much!
My heart feels all warm and happy---this is what life should be---more moments like these... dreamy stuff... pure joy.
It sometimes take me a little longer to respond to your notes because there is so much noticing in them and I want to take the time to converse with you rather than just say thank you. But thank you... for all the careful, generous ways you show up, always, somehow coming to the potluck with some wonderful treat to add to the feast. Yes, she knew she was safe. Her nap was perhaps the highest compliment I have been offered in a long, long time, the sort of currency that means nothing to the barista at Starbucks, and yet everything. Sometimes we just need a little more time, the tiniest of lifts, a second chance. One little kid to another... thank you.
I’m struggling to put into words how much I love this. Every word, every photograph. We were warned of big magic, but I wasn’t prepared for this! I actually found myself biting my fingernails at one point. And then the relief of you scooping up little miss, and her realisation that you were a friend. Based on nothing other than experience, I have no doubt that our winged friends can sense intention.
Seeing her fluffy little body, safely back on a branch, enjoying a post-drama snooze 🥹 unadulterated joy. This post is a gift. You are a gift. Thank you so much for sharing this, David.
Dearest Chloe, knowing that I've been able to offer up something here that feels like a gift to you is a gift to me. Thank you. As for other beings sensing out intention, I agree wholeheartedly. When I was younger and would head off on a backpacking solo for days at a time I noticed that the birds became friendlier and more curious as I got farther and farther into my journey. I couldn't prove it in any way that a scientist might feel comfortable with, but it slowly dawned on me that every mile distant from the trailhead meant I was shedding all the stress and fretfulness, all the grudges and slights I'd been carrying around with me. The reactions of the birds were like a barometer, measuring me, and the changes in their reactions to my presence sometimes astounded me. No one likes or feels safe around a resentful, stressed-out, fear-centered person, certainly not wild creatures. Dogs, famously can sense your energy and character within a sniff and a heartbeat or two. To this day I try to observe the ways that birds respond to my presence. Do they hide, or are they curious? Do they keep their distance or can they sense that I am not a danger to them? When they go out of their way to avoid me, I try to notice and then sort out what I'm holding onto that is pulsing outward such negative energy. When something about me draws them in, well that is when I know I am in the groove. I try like hell not to prove unworthy of their trust. It is always a treat to hear from you. May your day be kind.
Amazing! What a beautiful moment to behold and be a part of- thank you for sharing! I had a similar moment with a baby warbler in our yard a few weeks back. I can still feel her tiny feet in my palm.
Thank you, Janelle, for your kind note and for the visceral, momentary flashback when you describe the feel of your baby warbler's little feet in your hand.
Beautifully told and shown, David. It's one thing to be out and about and to have the great good fortune to participate in such lovely lives and moments, and it's entirely another to be able to cinematically tell and illustrate the tale. Thank you for all of it. Cheers.
What a story! I have never seen a lazuli bunting, but yesterday I did get to watch, out of the corner of my eye, a tufted titmouse taking a very splashy bath in the basin of water I put out for the birds and other creatures under our dogwood shrubs.
Good morning, Margaret, and thank you. Thank you for making time to offer such encouragement, but also for your efforts on behalf of the thirsty little creatures of your realm. May kindness find a way to surprise you at least twice before the sun sets today.
Thank you for this. I’ve flipped through many well done photo documentaries, but until now none had the beyond rational, deep seated connection enabling a vicarious emotional link between reader and the beautiful , little feathered jewels and their babies. The teller of the tale gets us through to the end(so far) wanting to immediately embark on a similar endeavor in our neck of the woods, while awaiting the next chapter of the 4 babies, 2 parents, and auntie.
You, sir, are one exceptionally talented observer and conveyor of those observations, incorporating emotions most of us cannot articulate so well.
Safar, I'm so pleased to make your acquaintance, here. Thank you for your encouragements and for making time to say hello!
Thank you for this story! ❤️
You are most welcome. Thank you for letting me know that you enjoyed it.
Your story speaks to my heart of Blue Bird experiences! Thank you. Through the years, I’ve noticed that after the baby Blue Birds fledge, the Mom hits the road (unless she stays for another round.) The Dad takes over the care of the fledglings, with feeding and teaching for several/many weeks going forward.
How many families of bluebirds would you guess you've watched growing up in your back garden by now, Danyce? You probably have a better sense of them than most, certainly more than me. I seldom encounter bluebirds close up. You are kind of a bluebird whisperer.
I'm told that Goldfinches behave much the same, papa taking over the task of rearing the littles, but not all species of birds share the familial responsibilities so equitably. Apparently Daddy Lazuli is as likely to be a no-show as not. Guess we all know, or at least know of humans who fail to show up in much the same way.
Thank you for weighing in and adding to the conversation...
Lancelot was the first Dad, with two mates and three rounds of babies! Then came another four seasons of Blue Birds families. For the last two seasons, the back yard box was not chosen, but I’ve had two summers of multiple Dads with their broods, eating mill worms from the front and back feeders. Through the years, they have all added so much magic to life! I highly recommend the journey…
Beautiful (frankly, amazing) photos David, and "little miss" nodding off is just plain wonderful. Thank you for sharing your gift.
I ditto your comments, Mackenzie.
You're most welcome, Mackenzie. I'm so pleased that 'little miss' spoke to you.
Little Miss nodding off after your tender rescue and encouragement - how beautiful is that! I fear I might have held my breath the entire time watching these encounters. So glad they trusted you with their story, David.
What a thrill to read this!!! My heart is equally softened and delighted by your day of magic.
Your response feels like a gift. Thank you. I'm so very pleased that this found a responding chord within you.
I'm just in awe here, Dave! Wow---Lazuli Bunting magic, full on! Truly a gift---you right there at that exact moment in time. I'm just staring at all your marvy pics and enjoying the dynamic events!
Ohhh---how in the world!? I'm so glad you lifted the littlest Lazuli back up to a safe perch, there to relax and be fed. You cupped her in your hands, you lifted her up and set her down safe---I'm smiling so big, feeling totes full of wonder, like a little kid!
And she knew she was safe---those pics of the little nap, and then the mama bunting feeding her are incredible. I loved seeing these moments so much!
My heart feels all warm and happy---this is what life should be---more moments like these... dreamy stuff... pure joy.
Dearest Toni,
It sometimes take me a little longer to respond to your notes because there is so much noticing in them and I want to take the time to converse with you rather than just say thank you. But thank you... for all the careful, generous ways you show up, always, somehow coming to the potluck with some wonderful treat to add to the feast. Yes, she knew she was safe. Her nap was perhaps the highest compliment I have been offered in a long, long time, the sort of currency that means nothing to the barista at Starbucks, and yet everything. Sometimes we just need a little more time, the tiniest of lifts, a second chance. One little kid to another... thank you.
I’m struggling to put into words how much I love this. Every word, every photograph. We were warned of big magic, but I wasn’t prepared for this! I actually found myself biting my fingernails at one point. And then the relief of you scooping up little miss, and her realisation that you were a friend. Based on nothing other than experience, I have no doubt that our winged friends can sense intention.
Seeing her fluffy little body, safely back on a branch, enjoying a post-drama snooze 🥹 unadulterated joy. This post is a gift. You are a gift. Thank you so much for sharing this, David.
Dearest Chloe, knowing that I've been able to offer up something here that feels like a gift to you is a gift to me. Thank you. As for other beings sensing out intention, I agree wholeheartedly. When I was younger and would head off on a backpacking solo for days at a time I noticed that the birds became friendlier and more curious as I got farther and farther into my journey. I couldn't prove it in any way that a scientist might feel comfortable with, but it slowly dawned on me that every mile distant from the trailhead meant I was shedding all the stress and fretfulness, all the grudges and slights I'd been carrying around with me. The reactions of the birds were like a barometer, measuring me, and the changes in their reactions to my presence sometimes astounded me. No one likes or feels safe around a resentful, stressed-out, fear-centered person, certainly not wild creatures. Dogs, famously can sense your energy and character within a sniff and a heartbeat or two. To this day I try to observe the ways that birds respond to my presence. Do they hide, or are they curious? Do they keep their distance or can they sense that I am not a danger to them? When they go out of their way to avoid me, I try to notice and then sort out what I'm holding onto that is pulsing outward such negative energy. When something about me draws them in, well that is when I know I am in the groove. I try like hell not to prove unworthy of their trust. It is always a treat to hear from you. May your day be kind.
I do exactly the same ♥️
Amazing! What a beautiful moment to behold and be a part of- thank you for sharing! I had a similar moment with a baby warbler in our yard a few weeks back. I can still feel her tiny feet in my palm.
Thank you, Janelle, for your kind note and for the visceral, momentary flashback when you describe the feel of your baby warbler's little feet in your hand.
Beautifully told and shown, David. It's one thing to be out and about and to have the great good fortune to participate in such lovely lives and moments, and it's entirely another to be able to cinematically tell and illustrate the tale. Thank you for all of it. Cheers.
Jason, you are most welcome. Thank you for making time to offer up such thoughtful encouragement. It means a great deal to me.
What a story! I have never seen a lazuli bunting, but yesterday I did get to watch, out of the corner of my eye, a tufted titmouse taking a very splashy bath in the basin of water I put out for the birds and other creatures under our dogwood shrubs.
Good morning, Margaret, and thank you. Thank you for making time to offer such encouragement, but also for your efforts on behalf of the thirsty little creatures of your realm. May kindness find a way to surprise you at least twice before the sun sets today.
Thank you for this. I’ve flipped through many well done photo documentaries, but until now none had the beyond rational, deep seated connection enabling a vicarious emotional link between reader and the beautiful , little feathered jewels and their babies. The teller of the tale gets us through to the end(so far) wanting to immediately embark on a similar endeavor in our neck of the woods, while awaiting the next chapter of the 4 babies, 2 parents, and auntie.
You, sir, are one exceptionally talented observer and conveyor of those observations, incorporating emotions most of us cannot articulate so well.
Thank you.
Allen Avrutin