Bluebirds never cease to amaze me. Last week, when I thought the bluebird hen was on the nest, she wasn’t. The babies had already hatched, somewhere around April 2, the earliest I can ever remember bluebirds hatching in our back yard.
We have had bluebirds for probably the last 12 years or more, and each pair has behaved differently. They have their own patterns and personalities.
One of the first years I began feeding mealworms to the beautiful birds, I became so friendly with the male bird that I could practically touch him.
He had no fear whatsoever of me, and seemingly spoke to me with a “churk” noise when I came.
The next year, the female was friendly and the male wasn’t. One year, both bluebirds dive-bombed me for about a week before they realized I was the one putting goodies in their bowl.
Late last summer, a young female bluebird – probably from the first nest – helped with the feeding chores of the second hatch and this spring, an extra male bluebird is working like a Trojan, right along side the parent blues, to feed the chattering babies.
I have never seen a male perform this chore. I know that through the winter, there was the pair of bluebirds that claimed the house on the fence, plus an additional five birds that frequently visited our sunflower heart feeder. Perhaps the extra male bluebird never partnered up, and I suspect he is somehow kin to the nesting pair – either a sibling or an offspring.
This spring, both bluebirds and the extra male are quite friendly. I can get about 5 feet from them before they feel uneasy, and they instantly recognize me when I enter the back yard.
They have become something of little beggars, perching on their favorite limb and verbally requesting that I deliver a large order of meal worms each time I’m around. And I do, of course.
They are as interesting as they are beautiful. They are without question my favorite birds.
