The Terrible Twins are now fending for themselves. You might
recall the two plump blackbird fledglings I mentioned a couple of days ago,
being frantically fed by a hard working dad. Today they were together again,
but this time they were helping themselves to as much of the rolled oats as
they could eat. And I know they’re the same pair of fledglings because they’re
unusually marked.
They’re still engagingly naïve, though, as fledglings always are. Watching baby birds finding their feet is one of the delights of spring for me. And one of the Terrible Twins came onto the bird table when I was standing right by it, watching me and seeming uncertain as to whether big creatures standing upright are dangerous or not. I said ‘hello’ and looked the other way. Baby carried on eating.
As for dad, he’s been mostly absent. I assume he’s had quite enough of pushing food into the broad beaks of bonny bouncing babies for one year, thank you very much, and taken himself off to get his life back.
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