The nest full of Phoebe chicks went silent. I was going to post about it, but wasn’t sure enough about what happened. It’s that struggle of accepting that nature knows what’s it’s doing, has its own perfect balance. I suspected Blue Jays.
The other day I saw this tiny broken white egg. The second clutch, murdered. This morning the Phoebes were loudly protesting something. I looked up. Yup. Blue Jays in the vicinity of the nest.
I fired a warning shot, they scrammed, but I’ve decided that it’s my yard, I can weed it to my liking. My property, my balance…
DeedleDoodleDaily 