maybe another day.

i should write:
God is good and teaching me new things.

i shouldn't write:
it's 2:29 am.

maybe another day.

hatched.

we left early this morning for a day in tulsa, and at our departure, we made sure to slow to a crawl long enough to say farewell to the eggs resting in our driveway. when we returned home we again slowed in order to check on the status of the four killdeer eggs. to our surprise, four tiny birds were resting where the spotted eggs had resided only hours earlier. we made a detour into the yard in order to steer clear of the babies and their protective mother. i went into the house with the intention of getting my camera in order to document this exciting event. when i returned to the gravel nest i was surprised to find it empty. in the few minutes it had taken me to get my camera, the mama bird had moved the babies to a new (and hopefully safer) location. i was quite crushed (like the eggs would have been if i hadn't protected them) -- these birds i had watched so closely and been so protective of had just... well, flown the coop.

a flip-flopped bird might be cute.

the long driveway that leads to my family's home is gravel -- a pleasant trail for rugged tires to venture to and fro; an unpleasant place for flip-flopped feet. the darn rocks are pointy and not exactly inviting where my tender feet are concerned. still, one species other than tires or feet (neither of which are a species per say) has made its home on said gravel... birds.


not just any birds, my friend. i did my research after nearly running over the chirpy creatures on more than one occasion and found that these feisty plovers (one in particular) are ground birds who often nest on gravel. after closer inspection of the overly zealous killdeer, i realized that indeed this mama bird was simply protecting her four speckled eggs.

apparently, her seemingly ridiculous behavior is all a part of her defense mechanism. this particular species, when threatened by tires or flip-flopped feet, runs from her eggs squealing and flailing about as if in pain. these clever birds understand that if a predator were to approach them, they would rather go for an easy kill (i.e. an injured bird) than her camouflaged eggs. why weed through the gravel for a few eggs when you can have a grown bird for little to no effort?

my research left me questioning what exactly the mama birds then do to their prey once they've lured them away from their eggs. my conclusion: their piercing squeal leaves the predator begging for mercy... kind of like my flip-flopped feet after a walk on the treacherous gravel.