Quail Story II

Finally got outside, Sunday, to weed and set up the hoses. Was rummaging around in the storage nook, when this gray fluttering thing flew into my face. I let out a manly guttural roar (the equivalent of a girly scream when I'm startled or scared).

I was only a foot away from a quail's nest, set next to the house, amongst all the pots and gardening gear. I rearranged the stuff so that the nest was even harder to see, and tip-toed back out.

Then I worried all night that I might have made the nest too hard to get into for the birds, or too hard to get out of for the nestlings.

Oh well. Don't interfere with Mother Nature.

Saw something on Oregon Field Guide that said success rate for nests is pretty low, so I feel a little better about last years tragedy.

The mother is back this morning. I'll tell you, though. Even a yard away, that nest is impossible to see, especially with the mother sitting on it.

This is just outside my office, and the male quail was chattering warnings all morning. I wanted to come out and scare away whatever was alarming him, but I learned last year that I can't be there every moment.

The cat is inside for the duration, or at worse, I'll let her out in the front yard long enough to poop. She's too lazy, usually, to make the trip to the back of the house.