Angelkeep Journals’ headline today steals a bit of dialogue, with variations, from Goldilocks and the Three Bears.
“Who’s been sitting in my chair?” “Who’s been eating my porridge?” “Who’s been sleeping in my bed?” Angelkeep’s version of the uninvited one entering and using a home fell in the year 2022. The location of the crime had been documented by digital camera on the edge of Angelpond. It was there where two separate nests were built with a seascape view.
The reeds of Angelpond provide a strong structure for red-winged blackbirds to weave a sturdy nest. Nests hovering over the pond surface were once common, an annual affair in multiple locations. Recent past years, with muskrats formerly removing most of the reed and all of the cattails (good eats those cattails) the redbirds found a different location. One tried building in a forsythia bush near the pond with little success. Over the time of three to six days the female alone weaves her nest.
The nest is a deep pocket and grass and stalks are woven around and between multiple reed or cattail stalks for ridged support in any wind. They typically are about three feet above the water crest. The top rim is usually about five inches in diameter and two to three inches deeper than that for the egg pocket. The bladed leaves of the plants cover the nest so it is not visible from below, beside, or above the location.
The nestlings and eggs have predators that come from land, water, and the air, thus the selection of the exact location is vital. The weaving skill of the female red-winged blackbird rivals advanced human basket weavers.
The recalled Goldilocks story varied at Angelkeep in that the invasive perpetrator was not a blonde sweet young girl, but an adult female bird of the cowbird variety. One can get peeved at the action of an egg-laying cowbird, but keep in mind they act naturally as God made them. Cowbirds do not build nests. They simply place their eggs in nests already built by other birds. Robins, cardinals, bluebirds, and warblers are often recipients of forced adoption eggs. Angelkeep’s experience proved that red-winged blackbird nests also entice the cowbird as a secure egg depository.
Cowbirds have been known to actually roll the nest’s former egg occupants out of the nest to make more room for the surrogate mother to sit on the cowbird eggs. Nature gave the cowbird yet another advantage. Their eggs were typically larger than the eggs in the nest where the mother cowbird laid the egg. In addition to that, their eggs hatched earlier, faster, thus the first born in the nest became the Goldilocks cowbird. It was first to be fed, thus grew faster, remaining largest and getting more of the continued food supply brought by parents of the nest’s intended occupants.
Now this story took a turn and began to sound more like the bird that flew off leaving Horton the Elephant sitting on her egg.
One of two Angelkeep’s red-wing blackbird nests was spotted near the shore. It was near enough to pull reed leaves toward the shore to get an inside photo of the nest. Deep in the bottom of the photographed nest laid three eggs. One was different. Two were speckled with brown and gray-brown spots on a slightly grayed shell. The size difference of one egg had been easily noticed. Angelkeep knew of the cowbird’s practice, and spotted cowbirds eating oil sunflower seeds. It was reasonable to assume the odd egg was that of a cowbird.
Angelkeep assumed wrong.
Once more research was accomplished, and a comparison was made with the photos of the eggs on the inside of the red-winged blackbird nest, it was surprisingly discovered that the odd egg was the only red-wing egg. The cowbird or cowbirds had place two orphan eggs into the same nest. One was more commonly sneaked in, but two eggs per nest was also not really rare.
Male red-winged blackbirds helped patrol the nest. If a perceived predator, including a human with a camera, appeared nearby, the female left the nest squawking. Otherwise the nest was so deep she is hidden in the bottom. Males will dive bomb at predators. Males are polygamists. At Angelkeep one male cared over both nests built by two different females at the same time.
After enough time passed for the eggs to hatch, the nest was revisited. All three eggs remained in the nest’s bottom. Was it the photos that chased off mama red-wing? Did she simply refuse to sit on three eggs at one time? After all, two eggs were too large and too hard. Only one was just right.
And that’s the story of Angelkeep’s Goldilocks and the Three Eggs.
Mr. Daugherty is a Wells County resident who, along with his wife Gwen, enjoy their backyard and have named it “Angelkeep.”
