The little woven Mexican hanging bird house is right next to my fuchsia, so the towhees chose the fuchsia. I went out on my patio to take a picture, but Mama Bird promptly flew out of the nest as I invaded Her patio, and so this is a stock photo. She chittered at me, and I backed into my apartment.
I watched the towhees build a nest, and read up on their courtship ritual. Nestbuilding is part of the ritual. It’s kinda like living together first — it makes sense to me.
I am reminded of the time I vacationed in Florida, and an osprey platform in the yard hosted one complaining female. The nest of a few sticks looked desultory, and the no-good male sat in a tree apart, his back to his complaining mate. I don’t know whether the complaints and squawking came first or the haphazard attention to nest-building, but it was, somehow, amusing to see my anthropomorphized version of the Bickersons in action. If the relationship didn’t get better, the nest was never going to get built.
I also saw the towhees’ mating ritual, which is a blink-and-you-miss-it affair. The birds engaged in a “cloacal kiss” in front of my window — a touching of genitalia. I’m assuming this happened more than once, but I could be mistaken. I have never been interested in towhees’ mating behavior before. The closest I get is the 10 to 10:30 p.m. mating ritual of the tenants in the apartment above me, who are otherwise quiet. I try to go to bed after 10:30, as otherwise I just lie awake.
My grandchildren were here two days ago, and their parents lifted them up to observe the towhees. They had given me the little studio apartment, which the birds had spurned, in order to provide the natural camouflage of the fuchsia. At my age, this is the first time I’ve watched a bird build a nest, sit on eggs, and hopefully feed hatchlings in close proximity.
The prompt asks us to dig deep. I’m not sure I’m digging deep. My world is getting smaller. However, I can observe small things I’ve never seen before.
I am reminded of a course I took in gerontology in health care courses years ago, when an elderly woman came to talk to our class. She spoke about all the social activities at her retirement home, but she enjoyed watching the birds outside her window.
It is the cycle of life and all that. I appreciate that I have to be present to see the cloacal kiss and watch the male and female flying back and forth with nesting materials.
I am reminded of the Sunday School verse, “Be still and know that I am God.”
Maybe next week I’ll talk about open mouths, feeding, and chirping.
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