It’s spring in the South! Beautiful and unpredictable. The trees and flowers are blooming. The thunder storms are rocking. And the birds are nesting.
I’m honored that these cute little birds love my front porch. Seriously, sweet bird song is the best morning greeting…as a single female, that’s all I’m getting for now..
I like to think I’m low maintenance overall…and my yard maintenance reflects that. No bushes. No roses. Therefore, I buy 2 hanging ferns and a couple of flower baskets each year for the front porch. Very simple. Neat, clean, and minimal.
Here’s the problem…the birds LOVE my ferns. They are determined to find a mate and build a home on my front porch. I am equally determined to thwart that plan. It kills my ferns. I can’t water after the eggs and babies come. So every day…yes, every single day…I have to do bird nest reconnaissance and inspect my ferns. The hope is that they will give up and relocate.
And they did…to the wreath ON MY FRONT DOOR!
So this is my theory…obviously the daddy bird is in charge of relocation. No momma in her right bird-mind would put her babies on a door! And they almost won…I was totally distracted checking ferns that I almost overlooked the new nest.
Whew! That was close. The nest was near complete. I’d have been exiled from the front porch for weeks! I won…for today anyway. As I post, a cute little red-headed bird sits out in the tree near my front porch just fussing at me…it’s momma bird no doubt saying, “I told you that wouldn’t work” to daddy bird. Meanwhile, daddy bird is giving me a look that says…”your sleeping-in days are over!”