For several weeks now our front yard has had a guardian. From morning until night, we have a winged gray troubadour loudly proclaiming his dominion through songs broadcast nonstop from the uppermost tip of the dead cottonwood or from the top of the chimney/antenna.
I'm sure he has a nest in the yard, but I've rather superstitiously avoided searching for it, as my track record on nests is abysmal. (If I can find a nest, it seems that shortly thereafter, so can a predator of some sort.)
Hopefully in the next few weeks I'll see a fledgling mockingbird or two in the area. Then I'll know that all of this serenading was not in vain. Meanwhile, we're enjoying the daily concert and smiling broadly while we listen. You just have to admire the guy's endurance and vocal range.
2 comments:
I hope he isn't going after those splendid blueberries...
So far we're getting the blueberries before anything else!
Ironically, Mr. Mocker has quit singing today. I suspect the little ones have hatched.
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