The Further Adventures of a Suburban Backyard

The house wren sang incessantly starting at dawn. I did not mind the wake-up call. Considering I thought the nest box was abandoned, this is music to my ears.

Things happen so fast in my backyard that I must restrain myself from writing every day because I am sure to be proven wrong. Such is the case after last week's post when I needed to update on the fawns being led off the lawn by their mother. I am now sure the one that appeared under the apple tree after the doe had led off one of her twins was Fawn 1, the one that started to follow me thinking I was its mother. I didn't know where it had gotten to once I got on the porch. It must've remembered Mom's instructions to lie down under a tree surrounded by high grass and wait for her.

Wren nest box (Margo D. Beller)

Neither fawns nor doe have been seen since and MH was able to mow the grass over several days this week when the rains held off.

But there were other dramas in my backyard that literally changed by the day.

The late afternoon of Memorial Day - a sunny, clear and windless day - I came out to get the feeder and found the female cardinal on the ground, her head smashed from hitting the side of the screened porch. The flies were already doing their own feeding when I shoveled up the body and deposited it under a shrub on the other side of my flood wall, the usual place where I place any dead birds or animals I find. (They decompose very quickly.)

Cardinals mate for life, and it was sad to see the male cardinal coming to the feeder as usual and not seeing its mate. However, I was sure that would change and two days later I was not surprised to see an adult female started coming to the feeder with the male. What did surprise me, however, was the begging young that appeared on the floodwall: not a cowbird, as I'd thought, but a juvenile cardinal after all. Like the adult, this bird was brownish (to better blend in) and had a small crest and red tail but its bill was gray rather than red. That will change as the bird matures, as will its coloring if this is a male.

While it is easy to tell the red cardinal male from the browner female, the same can't be said about house wrens.

Female cardinal from another year (Margo D. Beller)

Last week, I was unsure if I was going to have to clear an abandoned nest from the box I hang every year in the apple tree. I had seen one individual that would softly "scold" and then fly into the box. I presumed that was a female. I wondered how she would survive as a single parent, especially if she was sitting on eggs. There had been a singing male at the box a week ago but he turned out to be a one-day wonder.

A few days later another male started singing and this one was more persistent. It sang all around the box, sat just outside the opening, even stuck its head in. It sang for most of the day and at one point I saw it and the female flying around the yard. The singing has continued and today (Sunday) I see twigs sticking through the opening of the box, a sign the nest has been enlarged. If there were dead eggs from her first mate, they've likely been removed.

All this activity has me wondering about many things.

How does a mother deer communicate with its young to tell it to stay in a particular area until she comes back?

How did the male cardinal advertise his availability to another adult female after losing his mate?

Why did the female house wren accept this particular male rather than the earlier one (presuming this wasn't the earlier one returning)?

Some things I can infer. Instinct plays a heavy role. The fawn that followed me saw me as a big creature like its mother. Once the real mother showed up, the fawn followed her off my property.

The female cardinal accepted the young cardinal even tho' it was not hers because instinct tells her to do so. Besides, this pair might have their own brood once the youngster can feed itself.

Blossoming apple tree with nest box (Margo D. Beller)

The female house wren knew it would need a partner, even one that only lasts one season, if she was to lay eggs, brood them into hatching and raise them so they could fledge and take care of themselves. Unlike other birds where the male's responsibility ends at conception, male house wrens help feed and protect the young, usually three or four to a brood. So she needed a new mate.

Now I await the sound of peeping wren young. I hope the birds are hatched, brooded and fledged before the annual summer race between me and the squirrels to harvest the apples now quickly growing around the nest box.