KL Caley is our host and this week her photo is a tiny fledgling.
For visually challenged writers, the image shows a tiny bird hiding in a plant pot.
My tale is about Kamikaze Pete and a dog called Barney.
We’d put up three tit boxes on the back fence and called them Tit Terrace.
We had interest in Tit 1 and 2, but Tit 3 was never sniffed at, or not while we were looking.
Tit 1 soon had lodgers and it was fascinating watching the blue tits taking the nesting materials in to line their nest. Later it was just one tit delivering worms to the other sitting on the brood.
We never interfered, other than shooing off a jay and two magpies trying to get into the box, and on May Bank Holiday afternoon, I counted 15 fledglings emerge.
We followed him out and he stood on the path looking down at the bottom of the fence.
A tiny blue tit was lying there totally exhausted after trying to fly.
Barney gave him space so as not to frighten the poor bird any more than it already was, and Hubby got a clean tea towel, gently picked him up, and put him back in the tit box.
We called him Kamikaze Pete when we saw him perched on the opening in the box the next day plucking up the courage to try again as his parents were giving him ‘verbal tweets’ of varying volume to join them.
We could almost see him take a deep breath before taking the plunge, and it looked like he was going to bomb again, but amongst loud twittering of encouragement, he flapped his wings madly and gradually rose upwards enough to sit on the shed roof for a breather.
We saw the birds several times after that in the garden, either on the line, shed or the fence, then they just disappeared, so I guess they were old enough to be independent.
We had interest in Tit 1 the following year, but nothing came of it. I wonder if the three boxes are still on the fence posts as we left in 2007.