Watching a bird incubate is not very exciting.
Lady Baltimore spends most of her time in the nest. So, I spend most of mine watching her sit. Or rather, watching her tail, which is mostly all that I see. By my calculations, it’s about time for her babies to start hatching, one per day for four or five days. And a cowbird, too, if the interloper I caught scoping out the nest managed to lay an egg inside.
So, I’m watching that unexciting nest closely, looking for any movement that might suggest hatchlings within.
Continue reading Watching and Wondering
The Baltimore Oriole poked and pulled on her growing web of thread.
I was fascinated by her nest-building technique. Her work seemed somewhat random, yet over just a few days, the tangled thread evolved from loose and flat to a tightly woven, multi-layered pouch. Her construction project took about eleven days to complete. I marveled at how a bird’s instinct could guide such intricate weaving.
But Lady Baltimore’s work was not without drama.
Continue reading Hanging by a Thread
The male Baltimore Oriole hopped onto the nest-in-process.
I was watching the early days of oriole nest construction. The male stopped by periodically, but not to weave, because the female does all the work. He would hop in, poke his beak at a few strings, and hop out. Cornell’s Birds of the World explains that when the male visits the nest, it’s usually to inspect his mate’s handiwork. And based on what I saw, he often messed it up, yanking out stitches as he fumbled in the tangled web of string.
But one day—the third day of construction—I watched in horror as the male, dubbed Lord Baltimore, didn’t just tug on the stringy nest material.
He got himself stuck.
Continue reading In a Terrible Tangle