As I carefully untwisted the metal screw I was not expecting any changes. I’d grown accustomed to the trail in my new duties at Merrimac Farm. So far in my bluebird experience I’d walked under the warm spring sun, jotted down nest building progress, and enjoyed counting speckled eggs. But I’m impatient. When would they hatch into living breathing beings? My thoughts drifted to my teenage and adult children. Were they any different? When would they peck open on their own into a wider world?
As I gently lowered the wooden brown wall my whole world changed. Judgment of loved ones darted away. My breath ceased. My heart skipped. What was I looking at?
Yellow triangles among black fuzz. Could I see into empty cavernous stomachs? Where are the eggs? What is this? This tiny world flooded my being. Then a gentle tenderness flooded my being. They were here! Oh how I wanted to hold and feed them. But I knew better, thanks to the training that I’d received a few weeks ago.
Then it dawned on me that I was staring. I came to my senses and returned the door to its original position. Why was it taking so long? Had time stopped? Were my hands shaking? Had I “done it right?” Oh my goodness ~ could new life be waiting for me?!
And then I realized that I had not “done it right.” In my awe I’d completely forgotten any world beyond the one in the box. I’d forgotten how to count. I’d forgotten how to breathe. The hatchlings had whisked me away from earthly thoughts into the present moment. What wonder! What joy! Bliss. Peace.
I collected my thoughts, took a deep breath, and tried to focus. I opened the door once more to peek inside. They were still there! It seemed impossible that so much life teemed inside the small warm box. This time I silently counted 4 yellow beaks (not triangles after all) and noted damp dark feathers. I dared not breathe. Maybe they would blow away? I snapped a photo and meticulously closed the door.
I emailed our team as soon as I returned to my car. Surely they would share in this world changing event. And how! Over the next two days email replies flew back to me, affirming the delightful discovery.
As I look back I’m a bit embarrassed about how much I gushed to my team over the hatchlings. Have I grown familiar to the thrill, like watching the sun set or feeling the breeze on my face? One thing is for sure ~ I’ll definitely return to the trail next year.
Editor’s Note:
Thank you to first time monitor, Liz Piazza, for writing this wonderful glimpse into the world of bluebird monitoring. If you’d like to get involved next year, please fill out this volunteer form detailing your interest. Find last year's blog post here.
At Merrimac Farm volunteers found 34 bluebird eggs, of which 32 fledged. That's a survival rate of 94%!
Chinn Park Trail saw 63 bluebird eggs leading to 37 fledged and a survival rate of 59%. The Chinn Trail boxes also housed 32 tree swallow eggs, of which 28 fledged with a survival rate of 88%.
Many thanks to Rita Romano and Charles Badal, the outstanding leaders of this year’s crew of volunteers. A hearty thank you to the rest of our spectacular volunteers; Ines Nedelcovic, Val and Billy Ritter, Susan Hunt, Steve Clendenin, Kitty Monroe, Alaura and Grace Thapa, Amy Wilson, Jennifer Moyer, Brett Beckner, Kathleen and Steve Hurst, and Janet Wheatcraft. I would also like to thank Kevin Parker and Valerie Kenyon Gaffney for their support this season.
