The Battle is Over

If you are my friend on Facebook, you may or may not have taken recent notice of my ongoing battle with a family of mocking birds who nested in the Jessamine growing on the trellises in the back yard. For the most part, we didn't really mind each other that much, but I noticed them trailing me around the back yard to make sure I didn't come too close to their nest, squawking at me anytime I was near the trellises. The battle intensified the day Daniel and I set up the kiddie pool at the base of the Sweetgum, which they often paused in before entering the Jessamine jungle.

About two weeks ago, the eggs hatched and then ensued the constant peeping. Honestly, I really admired the parents because they worked so hard to keep their little ones fed, and it seemed no matter how many bugs and worms they returned with, the chirps only grew in strength. This was about the same time they started fussing at me no matter where in the yard I walked, sitting on the banister of the deck while I watered my the sprouts near the trellises, following my to the front yard when I checked on the callas poking up from the mulch, patronizingly perching on the neighbor's gutter when I watered my side garden. This was about the time this was my status:

I think an experiment in natural selection is in order. Lazy, yacking cat versus angry, dive bombing mocking birds. Clean laundry squatter versus future tomato peckers. Either way, I come out a winner. Yes. I know I am in desperate need of Jesus.

... and this one:

The crazy mocking birds follow me around the yard flapping their wings at me telling me to leave their babies alone. What do I do? I flap my arms back at them. I've now gone from the preggers neighbor who's always got her booty in the air as she pulls weeds to the crazy preggers neighbor who dukes it out with birds.

Yesterday as I was watering the gardens, my neighbors asked if the babies were still there. I hadn't even noticed, but the parents weren't fussing at me and I was very close to the nest. As I went a little closer and I heard angry squawking behind me, but when I turned around, they were way up in the pine trees dive bombing a crow. It was a three-on-one battle, and the crow soon retreated to another neighbor's roof and then vanished from our line of sight. Only a month ago, there was a pair of hawks dive bombing what I can only imagine was that same crow. I don't know much about crows, but based on the concern of the parents, I assume they were protecting their young who had recently vacated the nest and were exploring the magnolias and dogwoods. I hope they continue to ward off the crows, because I think that crow only sits in the tall pine tree that is directly over my corn. I know he's waiting just as eagerly as I for harvest.

Later that evening, I returned to the nest. I had never come close enough to the nest to be able to see it before then, so I first looked up through the Jessamine canopy to see where it was. Then, I stood on my tiptoes, stretched up my arms and shoved my camera deep into the thick Jessamine to snap a picture. Not a baby was in there, just an empty nest bits of down and feathers. Though I was worried about what might have happened to baby birds, we heard the familiar young peeps from around the yard when we came in for dinner.