After planting impatients around the upper bird bath, we rested on the swing. Our conversation went something like this:
“The chickadees’ eggs must have hatched,” said Lloyd. “They’re both flying in and out with something in their beaks.”
“I wonder why no one wants the chalet bird house in the old walnut tree?” I said.
And then . . . zoom-m-m!! Mother Sparrow landed on the chalet’s perch . . . and I grabbed the camera.
Father Sparrow led the way. They popped inside, one after the other.
“I hope they can get out again,” worried my husband.
Lloyd hauled out the step ladder and gathered some tools. After rasping the hole larger, he didn’t have the wire attached to rehang it before Mother Sparrow returned . . . and claimed her house!