Monday, May 21, 2018

Downright Departed

For years we've had a small bird house hanging from the front porch eave. It was made from a kit by one of the boys when they were in Scouts. The last time we had the house painted I slapped a coat of the same colors on the bird house-a light tan on the sides and the blue-grey we used for the front door and shutters for the roof.

Most years the birdhouse is nothing more than a decoration, but every few years we'll be blessed with a pair of birds. This year was one of them. One day a couple of weeks ago I heard chirping from that general area. With a little observation I soon learned that a pair of chickadees had claimed the bird house for their home. Eventually the chirping calmed down as the babies grew and got ready to fly out.

Saturday night I was doing yard work in the front and saw fluttering in the hole. I figured it was a baby fledgling and didn't think any more about it. However, yesterday morning when Hubby Tony and I went out the front door on our way to church I saw a bird hanging from the hole. It wasn't moving at all and I feared the worst. When we got back it was still there.

After lunch I put on a set of gloves, grabbed a plastic newspaper sleeve and rag, and went outside to investigate. Hubby Tony came with me to provide moral support. The bird was indeed dead. It was harder than I would have thought to remove the tiny limp body, because its foot was tangled in some of the nesting material.  What a horrible death it must have had!

I dug a hole next to the maple tree in the back yard and buried the bird. I felt awful about the whole thing, but I hope the tiny bird body will enrich the soil in that area.  While I was doing that Tony took down the house for cleaning. I removed the screws holding on the bottom, shook out the nest that was inside, and brought the house inside for a thorough washing. I think that when it dries I'll give it another coat of paint before I rehang it.

Five years ago today: New York, New York (Big Apple Chronicles--Introduction)


  1. Poor bird, nice of you to bury him.

  2. Yes, how awful. How good of you to offer the parents housing!

  3. How sad.
    My boys had put together and painted those birdhouses too. Our house backs up to woods so we hung them from a tree we could see from our deck. Unfortunately we get some really fierce winds here in the spring and one year the birdhouses were just gone like The Wizard of Oz. I sure hope no birds were inside. And if they were, they landed safely in Oz.

    1. It might be a good life for a bird in Oz :-)