My life is about living with nature – here you can live it with me!

Posts tagged “Eastern Bluebird

Birding & Sisters Weekend

Esisters 062
Eastern Bluebird along Radnor Lake

By: Pat Coate

Had a really fun sisters’ weekend in Nashville recently. Stayed downtown at Printers Alley, enjoyed the music at Tootsies and some of the other ‘honky-tonk’ venues, ate (twice) at Jack’s BBQ and even ventured out for a line dance or two. Non-birding sister, Kathy, very kindly found a park (Radnor Lake Natural Area and Wildlife Refuge) a few miles south of town where we were able to spend a few hours hiking and birding. Here’s a few shots from the park.


Babies in the Boxes

Baby House Wrens
House Wrens

While visiting Young Naturalist C . . . she had some babies in her back yard nest boxes!  Sorry there is something about babies that make me smile!

Bluebirds are in the yard!

Eastern Bluebird
Female Eastern Bluebird from my 2008 photos!

I heard my first Eastern Bluebird singing around the nest boxes in the backyard today. It is amazing how a simple little song can get someone so excited! I suddenly went into dream-land thinking about what I should be expecting throughout the summer in my boxes . . . .

The crow and blowflies

American Crow
American Crow on the Bluebird Box

Yes the crow could hear the baby nestlings inside the box! What do you think happened next?

Queens of their boxes

Eastern Bluebird Eggs
Eastern Bluebird Eggs

After realizing that I fetched up my Wordless Wednesday post . . . I decided to come up with something easy to post today. Then I noticed the two females sitting on their nest box in my back yard. . . .

Lets Go for Bluebirds [Poem]

New Neighbor

“Let’s Go for Bluebirds!”

Grandfather would call on a March morning,
snow sparkling in the sun.
Pulling on his wool cap,
He’d lead me down the cow path,
crusts of ice crackling under our boots

“Wait. Let’s look around,” he’d whisper
when we reached the orchard,
searched rows of apple trees,
gray trunks gnarled,
branches craggy

If I heard the singer,
blue-backed, red-breasted thrush,
I waited for Grandfather to point,
trying to keep his voice to a hoarse whisper,
“There he is. On that high branch.”
And what did he always add?
“A piece of sky has landed in the trees!”

By: Maxwell Corydon Wheat, Jr ©