After the first egg was laid on March 19, I felt joy but also apprehension; I had already begun to develop that sense of concern that bluebird hosts get when anticipating what might possibly go wrong. Bluebirds lay one egg per day until they reach the final egg for that brood, usually between four and six eggs. The female does not begin incubating the eggs until the last one is laid, and I was worried that the cold weather would affect the eggs as nighttime temperatures were around 45 degrees.
One egg was added each day for the next four days until the clutch maxed out at five; then the female began staying on the nest to incubate the eggs. The countdown clock starts on the day that the last egg is laid; then it usually takes 13-17 days for the first egg to hatch.
Each day I’d check the nest box to make sure the eggs all appeared intact and nothing was amiss. I tried to time these checks if I saw the female fly off to get something to eat. Sometimes she would hear me coming down the deck steps to approach the nest and would fly out. The male was usually on guard duty, perched high up in a nearby tree where he had a good view of the nest box and surrounding area.
Five eggs were laid over five days.
The male, sometimes joined by the female, would occasionally fly close to my head while wildly fluttering their wings — which made a distinctive clicking sound — to express their displeasure with me checking the nest box. I was quick about my business and they seemed to forgive my intrusion when I went back to the deck or inside. Interestingly, in future nesting seasons, the parents did not react this way as much when I would check the nest box; often the male would calmly, but intently, watch me from his perch on my deck. It seems that over time they’ve gotten used to me and don’t think I pose much harm.
I mentioned the sense of concern that had enveloped me now that I was a bluebird host; it’s a feeling of responsibility for the safety and well-being of the bluebird brood. After all, I had invited these bluebirds to nest and raise a family in my back yard; I owed it to them to help keep them safe. If you become a bluebird host, you’ll soon understand what I mean.
Along these lines, I purchased a wireless motion detector and mounted it so it pointed to the area around the nest box pole. I kept the wireless alarm by my bed that I could hear if cats, raccoons or other warm-blooded predators came around during the night (however, since the device detects heat given off by an animal, it won’t detect a snake since they’re cold blooded). When the alarm would go off during the night, I was up like a shot to see what was in the back yard. A couple of cats and possums wandered through but, thankfully, didn’t cause any problems.
Then 14 days later on April 7 the first egg hatched. The female bluebird had already carried away the eggshell. I read that newly hatched bluebirds look like hairy, pink shrimp, and that’s as good a description as any. It was very exciting so see this process continuing on track as nature intended.
The next day, three more hatchlings were in the nest, bringing the total to four. One egg remained unhatched and, unfortunately, it was not viable. The new countdown clock starts on the day that the last egg hatched; then it usually takes 15-20 days for the chicks to fledge.
Four newly hatched chicks. One egg was not viable and did not hatch.
Watching the chicks grow over the next several days was quite enjoyable. Sometimes when I would open the box to check on them, they would all be asleep. Other times, they’d raise their heads and open their bright yellow beaks wanting to be fed.
With bluebirds, both parents feed the chicks. Feeding activity started off slowly, but gradually the pace picked up. Around the 13th day the feeding activity noticeably intensified with the parents making continuous food runs, flying off and bringing back insects almost non-stop.
Their four chicks were getting bigger and hungrier.
It was interesting to watch how the parents’ feeding style changed over the past couple of weeks. When the chicks were tiny and weren’t requiring as much food, the parents would often fly back to the nest box with an insect in their beak, perch on top of the box for a while, and then enter the box opening to feed the chicks. As the pace picked up, the parents bypassed landing on top of the nest box and flew directly into the box opening; it was like watching a precison-guided cruise missile drop out of the sky directly onto its target.
Also, something that takes many first-time bluebird hosts by surprise is when they see the parents repeatedly flying out of the nest box with what looks like a tiny, bright white egg or pebble in their beak. Nothing to be alarmed about; it’s the chicks’ fecal sacs that are being removed to keep the nest box clean. Both parents take the sacs and drop them far away from the nest box so the scent won’t attract predators.
Four growing chicks.
Sixteen days after the last egg hatched, I saw a chick peeking out of the nest box opening, so I knew fledging time was near. The next day, both parents had assumed perch positions high enough so they could see the entire yard; this way they could see each chick when it left the box no matter which direction it headed. The apex of my roof turned out to be a perfect spot for this. Both parents had large insects in their beaks, waiting for their chicks to fledge, so they could quickly go to them and feed them once they landed in a tree or shrub.
I must admit that, while each aspect of the nesting process was exciting to watch, the anticipation leading up to the fledging was almost over the top. The chicks were taking turns looking out at the world, and then it happened. First one chick, then the second, then the third and fourth simultaneously. Mom and dad sprung into action to locate and feed all their fledglings.
And then they disappeared. Gone. All of them. Nowhere to be seen. Off to start their new lives under the watchful eyes of their parents.
Standing in a now strangely quiet and lonely back yard, my feelings of exhilaration had morphed into an odd feeling of loss. This was the empty-nest syndrome that bluebird hosts experience.
But, I had just watched a miracle of nature, and four beautiful, healthy bluebird chicks had come into the world. And that was really something to celebrate.
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This is the fourth column in a series.
Next in the series: “The Second Brood of 2019: A Heartbreaking Lesson is Learned”
I am hooked can’t wait for the next article!