No reason to leave
the comfort of Prickly Pear
to make our fortunes.
“STORYLINE” by Andy Wilkinson
(click)
“Best of the Dry Years: 2012-2016”
HOMEMAKING — 2016
“WIND UNDER MY SKIN – 2014
‘STREAMS OF THOUGHT’ — Spoken Poetry 2013
‘GATE LEFT OPEN’ — 2013
‘PROCLAIMING SPACE’ — Wrangler Award 2012
‘UNEVEN GREEN’ — 2010
‘POEMS FROM DRY CREEK’ — Wrangler Award 2009
Whew!
You’ve boiled down a whole lotta lives here!
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Ah yes, to find the down amid the thistles: the secret of contentment . . .
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Looks like they’ll be fully fledged soon. Not knowing much about them, I wonder if they’ll be on their own right off or stay with the parents awhile.
It’ll be interesting to see if they are accepting of you even more than their parents, grandpa. 😉
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We’re watching, Richard. Today, only one is left in the nest — no adults around. They are so close to being full-grown, traveling like adults, that the only way I can tell them apart at a distance is the length of their tails. The Roadrunners here have always been curious about us, coming into the yard and garden daily. Robbin can even bring them closer by mimicking their hooting calls.
The only other ‘theory’ I’ve developed is that the female is larger than the male adult, based on the ‘notion’ that it’s the female that incubates the eggs.
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These are such great shots! Are you feeding them??
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Thank you. No, we have not fed them, though we could have I’m sure. They seem so docile in the nest. John K indicated that they had their Roadrunners eating raw hamburger from their hands.
It’s been interesting and educational, satisfying to finally see some young ones.
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safe place!
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We all need a nest!
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I’m in awe of the crafty nest which is so neatly tucked in between the prickles and how it’s twigs make a bird basket.
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As long as I’m mentioning observations, early on when she was incubating the eggs, all I could see was her head and tail, indicating to me that the nest was deep. Naturally as they hatched and fledged, more of her could be seen. Now the nest is nearly flat, full of the food that’s run through the babies. It’s time for the last one to leave.
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I remember as a youngster finding a nest and thinking it was pretty cool and that I would make one. After perhaps an hour I gave up and decided “the stork” must bring em.
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