For three days now, a pair of bluebirds (pictured) has been trying to get into our house. It began with the male flying into the picture window. Then he did it again. And again. And then both of them were hanging out at the window, sometimes scoping out the situation from the shepherd’s crook that will soon hold the hummingbird feeder, sometimes hanging out by the window, sometimes bumping it again (just to be sure), and sometimes just sitting on the sill and peering inside. Despite my tapping the glass from the inside and even with Mona’s lunging at them, they kept coming back. On the second day, they discovered the picture window at the back of the house and alternated entry attempts front and rear.
We have, in short, a seriously confused pair of bluebirds. At times, especially when they are sitting on the sill, as in the photo, one can almost imagine one saying to the other, “That last house was so small. You promised a bigger one next time. This is the one I want.” To which the exasperated mate replies, “Yes, dear. If you can get us through this force field, we can move in today.”
We believe this is the pair that had inhabited our bluebird house until they were recently displaced by a wren. The wren is now gone, the nest removed, and the house ready for bluebird occupancy once again. But, Nancy’s internet research seems to suggest, the birds were spooked by the invader and became hyper-vigilant against all invaders, including their own reflections in our windows. Today, Nancy bought some mealworms and placed them below the bluebird house, where the pair promptly found them and began feasting. This may have effected a reset; this afternoon, they had abandoned our windows and were checking out the bird box.
It makes me wonder about the places in my own life where I have gone a little crazy, missing the obvious way forward, needing a reset. Mealworms, anyone?