In May two birds swooped and dived bombed us each time we entered or left the front porch.
We looked all over for a nest under construction and found none. The swooping, persisted. I climbed on a box and took a picture of the top of the porch light fixture and sure enough, between the top of the fixture and the angled ceiling, sparrows had constructed a nest.
The swooping continued until the eggs were laid and then the parents seemed less interested (but still interested) in our comings and goings and porch sitting. We stopped using the porch light for fear of cooking the eggs. One day I found half of a small white eggshell on the ground by the front porch.
Then we heard peeping and cheeping of baby birds. The parents flew in and out all day long, ferrying bugs and (impressively) bright green dragon flies. The baby birds were cacophonous and the parents’ coming and going was continuous.
The four baby birds grew and peeked over the nest, and we took pics of their funny faces with tufts of fur and beaks and bright eyes. They sang and peeped continuously. Their constant chatter defined our porch, our days and the entrance to the house. They grew and started pooping over the nest onto our front porch. We wondered how all four fit into the small nest and when they would fledge.
On Sunday morning, one of the baby birds fledged after a flutter of wings. The fledger hopped out, flailed in space for a bit before flying drunkenly across the yard. We put a ladder near the nest – concerned that the fledging wouldn’t be able to get back in because of the peaked roof of the porch and flat top of the porch light fixture.
The scout bird came back briefly and perched on the ladder, then the nest, but by then two more birds had taken flight, landing on the cars, nearby rocks, the apple trees, etc. Finally, the last bird took flight, and we wondered if they’d ever come back to the nest. It was oddly quiet on the porch without their chorus. The parents too abandoned the nest.
We marveled that the birds were apparently just gone, part of the sky now.
