Nests, surprises, and mysteries

I feel like I’m writing a lot about birds lately, which is ironic. Among the pantheon of living things to know about, birds have always been a peculiar gap in my knowledge. But, nests were the stars today, so it’s a day to write about them. When teaching kids about nature, nature often dictates the terms and timing.

This morning, I was doing my weekly rounds of filling up the seed feeder and inspecting the nesting box at church. Following an unbroken span of weeks in which the only visitor was a wasp, last week I’d found a tidy little nest made entirely of pine straw. This week, I found in the nest three perfect blue eggs.

I hollered over the fence to let the kids know. Both of mine were thrilled to see the eggs, and there were a few others on the playground who stopped by for a boost to look at them. They’re perhaps about the size of a penny, if not a bit smaller. My son declared, “They’re blue! These are robin eggs!”

I explained that robins aren’t cavity nesters, and that the gauge of the nesting box is simply too small for a robin to squeeze through. I said that I don’t know, but I’ll do some reading to find out. My hunch is that they may be eastern blue birds, but alas, I’m even less clever about eggs than I am about birds.

My daughter wanted to know if we were going to watch them hatch, but I told her that it would be days. This was enough to send her running back to play on the playground.

In the afternoon, I discovered that a waif of a bird has taken up residence in a nesting box I’ve had for a couple of years. Übernanny Emma had helped the kids make the box for Father's Day a couple of years ago. I promptly weather sealed it and hung it in an inconspicuous part of a conifer right next to a living room window. After a couple of years with no evidence of use either for roosting or nesting I moved it to hang from a flowering dogwood in the backyard.
While moving some bags of topsoil, I noticed the box moving. As I approached, out flew a slight, tawny bird, somewhat smaller than a goldfinch. Looking inside the box, I saw a complete but ragged nest, made as much from bits of string, paper, and plastic, as stray grass and weeds I'd pulled earlier. I don't recognize the bird at all.

I told the kids about the little bird, and it sparked some discussion. Both of them are hoping to spot it, and both have suggested every species they know as a possible identity. I’m still stumped, but am reading up on the little guys. In any event, it’s become a mystery for us to solve together.