few days after we settled in here, we hung one of our plants from the ceiling of our patio. It looked like a nice spot, tucked away in the far corner, protected from the elements. Apparently a little female sparrow thought so too. It wasn't long before we noticed little pieces of twig, dried grass, and hair sailing past our glass patio door. After digging out a small hole in the soil, she filled it with all of the warm, dry things she could carry, and wreathed the entrance to form a comfortable looking nest.
This didn't disturb us much, so we continued taking our coffee and tea on the patio in the early morning--the only time of day that the climate here is comfortable enough for such an activity. But now our morning routine was disturbed by little, brown, feathery blurs of speed and noise. The nesting bird had suddenly grown very territorial--which we forgave her for since she doesn't have the same capitalistic affections that we do, nor any knowledge of the lease contract we signed with the property's management.
A quick look into the nest enlightened us as to her change in behavior (sorry for the blurry picture, our only lens has trouble focussing on things so small):
She had laid a triplet of cream and brown speckled eggs. So we watered the plant sparingly for the next week or so and left her alone. But all was not smooth sailing for the mother bird.
The plant fell from its hook, and I found it upside down one afternoon next to a loud and hysterical little sparrow. So I picked up what remained of the plant, replaced some of the soil, and took a look at the nest. Remarkably, all of the eggs were still there, intact. So I retied the basket to the hook, and left it alone.
A few weeks later and there were new, faint noises coming from our hanging basket:
The eggs must have survived the fall as they are now hatched. That little guy on the edge seems to be as determined to get himself killed as his mother was while he was still in the egg (some of the nest material is made of the hanging basket's twine): tonight he fell out of the basket. But we've replaced him to his nest and he seems well, and has received insect pâté from his mother since.
We'll see how things turn out...
