And the weavers weave
The spot right outside our kitchen door happens to be prime property.
Of course, I’m not referring to prime property for us, I’m talking about the red-headed weavers – the prime property hot spot being our wooden roof beam. For the last 2 years, this is where a number of red-headed weaver couples have opted to design their “homes” in order to raise their little families. We’ve been super privileged to be able to watch these amazing architectural structures emerge, built out of thin twigs, with a couple of small leafy branches for decoration.
These beautiful woven round structures, with a downward facing entrance tunnel, are built hanging from the wire mesh which covers our thatch and is attached to the beams.
It doesn’t seem to bother them in the least that we’re in and out the door all the time, and that our swing door bangs louder than thunder – well … I’m sure it would be louder than thunder to a teeny tiny baby bird.
It absolutely boggles my brain, how industrious these little birds are and how they can make such an intricate structure, using only their beaks and feet as tools. The workmanship is absolutely incredible.
Nonetheless, eggs are obviously laid, we keep a watchful eye on the nest(s), and finally the really helpless little babies arrive. These little babies are what is referred to as altricial – meaning they are totally reliant on parental care.
After a few days, you are very much aware that they need mom and dad. They are super vocal and scream at the tops of their lungs for breakfast, lunch and supper. Mom and dad are kept very busy keeping the hunger pangs away.
They always seem to know when either mom or dad is going to arrive, because that is when the screaming becomes very much louder and very persistent. When mom and/or dad are not around, then it is time to rest and regain energy for the next delicious morsel which will come their way. I’m still trying to figure out how they know when mom and dad are about to do this. I think the parents might signal with a specific call that they are on the way, but I’m not sure.
And if the yelling kids are not enough to tell you there are babies in the nest, you can always tell by the white splotches on the paving stones directly under the nest.
From what I can understand, entirely from watching the babies grow, is that it seems when they are ready to leave the nest, they just “plop” out and hang around on the ground for an indefinite period of time. By this stage they have all their feathers, and are strong enough to start learning about life outside the nest.
The little baby red-headed weavers are very well camouflaged, and difficult to see in the grasses. Every now and again it takes a rest and does some rather insistent “cheeping”.
After rather a lot of fretting and much anxiety, I realised that when the little bird is calling from the grass, it’s not because it’s freaking out (that’s me)!! It’s because it’s calling mom or dad, who are actually still around to feed it as well as keep a watchful eye on it.
The little feathery ball of cuteness then continues with hopping around, taking a rest, and hopping around some more, seemingly having no clue of the 101 imminent dangers surrounding it. You might also ask how the baby got from its nest, to the grass. Well, by this stage, they seem to instinctively know how to fly a little bit as well.
I’m afraid I have no idea what happens after that, as I’ve not managed to yet watch one of these babies reach the full flying stage. They disappear into the bush, where I hope they grow big and strong to be the next generation to one day make their nest outside our back door.
It’s extremely stressful being a surrogate human “bird mom”, I can tell you this for free! I cannot imagine how stressful it must be to be a bird parent.
I will tell you about the other bird families who have made their homes in our “garden” in my next posts.
