I found it pretty quickly. Inside a perfectly round masterpiece of twigs and grass, in one of my climbers on the front fence, were five blue and brown speckled eggs. From her perch on the wire, Mama Mockingbird (or was it Papa? I can't tell them apart.) squawked and flapped to warn me to keep my distance. I snapped a couple of photos and quietly left the bird to tend her eggs.
Those photos of the eggs are on the memory card that the cats stole.
Fast forward to Friday, while Kat was visiting. As we were talking and snapping photos, the Mockingbird was sitting on the wire again, but this time it was VERY aggressive and menacing. The babies have hatched, I thought. I told Kat to watch my back while I went in. (I was flapped in the head by a Mockingbird last summer, while I was trimming the rambler fence. I didn't want THAT to happen again.)
There they were ... five perfect little babies. I had time to take ONE photo before Mrs. Mockingbird made her dive and sent me scurrying. Mr. Mockingbird was on the tree, preparing to be the second wave ... I wasn't going to push my luck to try to get another shot.
You know me, though. You can guarantee that I will be out there every day or two with my camera, taking my life in my hands to document these babies as they grow.
Have a happy Sunday!
Connie
