High Temperature: 66F Low Temperature: 49F Sunrise: 6:24 am Sunset: 8:19 pm Humidity: 54% Wind: nne 10 mph Chance of Rain: 10%
There was light wind this morning. No train rumbled and whistled its passing and the clanking, chugging oil pump was silent. The quiet allowed us to notice the natural sounds of a day awakening. The bird song was a cacophony, pure and clear as we made our way through the pasture. Ahead of us three small meadow birds were flying low, dodging and weaving seemingly having an altercation of some kind. Perhaps a territorial dispute or a fight over a lady. Witnessing this, my husband and I had the same thought: imagine all of the little dramas (and some not so little) being played out as we stroll obliviously along; the animal needs being pursued, rarely seen and even less remarked upon.
Towards the southern fenceline, we made our way to the small, bushy tree that holds a bird's nest with a four perfect eggs (see post from April 30). Each morning we check to see if four fuzzy, wobbly-headed and hungry chicks have made their way into the world. This morning, no mama bird flew out. She usually perches somewhere nearby to monitor our actions. I gently pulled aside the branches and peered into the nest, It was empty. Still perfect, neat, intact and snug, but empty. A snake, opossum, crow, raccoon. It could've been any of these who caused this life and death drama. There are many potential culprits, but no clues.