Not a pretty picture

Our Bluebird boxes haven't yet held Bluebirds.

Last year, we hosted a family of Tree Swallows and House Wrens--this year, it's Tree Swallows and Chickadees. But, nevertheless, the anticipated visitors each spring and the activity they add to our hilltop trail, brings us a little closer to the bird world--by bringing them a little closer to us.

This morning as I walked past, I heard a commotion from inside the chickadee residence. The front panel is held fast with a screw, so, before I went back to investigate, I grabbed the screwdriver from the mudroom shelf.


By the time I returned to the box, a bloodied baby lay in the grass beneath it, still warm, but dead. Inside, two more recent kills--their small feathered bodies perfectly still on their mossy bed.



Too late to stop the massacre.
Too nearsighted to see who had flown from within.




As I stood helplessly by, resigned to the fact that I, too, as so many other box-watchers find, now have something to protect against--from the side, buried deep in the tall grass, a tentative, "dee dee dee."

Barely visible, buried deeply beneath--a survivor.

Tangled within the tall grass, his small blue foot holding tightly.
He had escaped.


Putting him back into the box was not an option--for whoever attacked there before would likely repeat--intent upon claiming the box as their own. But the parents seemed unable to tend to him as he was. The field has already grown tall and thick.
After a series of phone calls and answering machines, I decided to try Kathi, at work, for advice--she's tended boxes for years, and knows the bird world well.
She suggested providing a brush pile--to both shelter him and allow him to climb above the grass.

In a few minutes, I had one ready.
But neither heard nor saw the little chickadee anywhere.

I walked on, past Little Pond pool, to the other box, where the swallows are almost ready to fledge.
All was peaceful and as it should be.

I turned back toward the chickadee box.
And there, calling from the top of the newly placed pile--
was the little survivor.

Update :
By evening, 3 nestlings were emerging from the grass beneath the nest box.
See them here.