I wasn’t all that thrilled about the swallows building a nest in the Clubhouse, but since they’d already laid their eggs and I didn’t want to kill their babies I let it stay.
I felt quite magnanimous at the time, but that was before they started trying to kick me out of my own Clubhouse. Well, Princess’s Clubhouse anyway.
By my last count that one little nest has eight adults guarding it, ready to screech at the top of their tiny lungs and dive at the head of anyone who dares approach.
If you zoom way in you may be able to see the tiny bird sitting on the metal post. Or maybe not, my phone camera isn’t that good. At any rate, the adults are teensy tiny little terrors that consistently manage to drive me back to the house waving my arms around trying to fend them off.
I can’t wait for the baby birdies to grow up and leave the nest.
Watcher’s still hoping his bowl-helmet will shield his brain from the craziness. I wonder if it would work against bird beaks? I may need to borrow it when I go to let the sheep out in the morning.