My uncle has been telling me about the little birdhouse he has hanging outside his place here in Florida. Bluebirds nest in it every year, he says. First he moved it away from the carport side of the house because of the mess they made on the car. Then he had to move it away from the patio area slightly because the birds wouldn’t come if there were people sitting outside. But apparently they found the perfect spot for it because the birds have hatched their eggs, and mom and dad are staying quite busy feeding their babies. I once read an article describing the dos and don’ts of bluebird houses, and I’m pretty sure that this little house breaks every one of those rules. Maybe the Bluebirds didn’t read that same article. I decided to head over there this morning before these babies leave the house, and before the storm that was heading our way spoiled any chances of taking photos today. That poor little birdhouse was being tossed around in the wind, my uncle said it’s a wonder the eggs didn’t get scrambled.
This mourning dove was so cute, and more of an apricot color than gray. Maybe it was just a reflection of the roof it was sitting on. When those babies leave home it looks like a little spring cleaning might be in order.