We had five eggs. Now we just have a flurry of weird little heads popping up every time Mom or Dad shows up with food.
Did they all hatch?
Maybe? Probably?
When they’re awake and up it’s because one of the adults is there, which means going and trying to take a picture will get my eyes gouged out. (I’m a woosy boy, Mama Finch is going to die defending her chicks from the perceived predator.)
When the adults are gone and I can sneak in for a quick, barely focused picture (remember, there’s not a lot of room between the top of the nest and the porch roof) the chicks (not these Chicks!) are all asleep and packed in like sardines. Four of them, or five?
At least.
Probably.
We Love The Stars Too Fondly 