#Silent Sunday… Well, almost!

This week has been a bit depressing, and not just because of the relentless heat.

In the bird world, it is time for fledglings to leave their nest. Only most of them seem to be doing this a little early, creating a sad scenario for the mothers. Mother Blackbird started her distress call earlier this week, the sad, plaintive note repeated continuously until the baby in question managed to convince her that he/she can fly. The feeling of joy when she stops calling, is fleeting until the next fledgling takes the leap of doom and ends up on the ground.

Late last night, at dusk, I went for a walk in our slowly cooling garden. I was not alone. Mother Blackbird was sitting on the gutter above my head, her cry feeble and pathetic as she called to her baby. I hoped this would be the last of her brood, as she was breaking my heart as well as her own…

If there weren’t so many cats out there, I wouldn’t worry so much, but we have already been gifted with the sad body of one unlucky baby bird. For some reason, Milo, our own cat, thought we should have it. I don’t think he hurt it, as it was undamaged. I just don’t want any more; thank you, Milo…

We are learning so much about our crazy cat now he has introduced himself to the great outdoors. He still can’t use the catflap to leave the house, so that’s an ongoing story.

I was busy preparing supper the other day. Mother Blackbird calling just outside my window when I heard an answering call. Instant panic descended as I realised the fledgling could be close, and Milo was out there too. I reached the back door and stopped in my tracks. Milo was lying in our yard; he was answering Mother Blackbird with a sound I had never heard him use before. Every time she called, he answered, and it was the saddest conversation I ever heard…

This poor mother seems to have run herself ragged looking after her offspring…

18 thoughts on “#Silent Sunday… Well, almost!

  1. Oh I love your Milo! It sounds as if he doesn’t know he’s meant to be a predator. Our cats, and dogs, have learned to leave baby magpies well and truly alone as mamma magpies will attack even humans if they think their babies are in danger. One of the things I’ve loved the most here in Warrandyte is that the resident magpies have never, ever dive-bombed me. It’s as if they recognize me as the big ‘thing’ that leaves titbits out for them. In fact, I’m pretty sure they recognize my /face/. It’s a wonderful feeling of acceptance.

  2. Life is tough for birds parenting. They have to work very hard. The whole population seems to have increased in our region since Covid.
    We had housemartins set up home under our eves last year. They’ve returned and brought another couple along to nest in a house across the road.
    I was cleaning their droppings off of our window, and both couples turned up to mob my broom handle (I was on the other side of the window- had a feeling going up a ladder would not be a good idea)

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