Bush eggs: one. Nest box eggs: one – caused by jubilation. Feed hopper: definitely half full. Proud fathers: One, Jack.
The worst sight any mother could see – that’s how I would describe it. I went to see Steve to share with her that her twenty-one days of sitting were up (actually it was twenty-two; sometimes first-time mothers take a bit longer but I didn’t want to alert Steve to that fact) but she was gone. The nest was empty of anything living and lovely but instead contained death and pestilence. Lots of broken and bloodied shells, three dead chicks, and maggots everywhere. Oh, the sight!
I was mesmerised. I couldn’t move. My heart was breaking. Then I heard Steve clearing her throat from some bushes not far away and as I turned to look she proudly stood up and displayed two fine chicks – alive and devoid of maggots.
Oh, happy day in the end.
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