We Love The Stars Too Fondly

Mama Finch was fussing with the nest contents again today. (I can’t see in unless I get real close and get a chair or step stool, and that’s probably a good way to lose an eye these days!) I finally saw at least two heads popping up a couple of times.

Aside from the whole “Awwwww, baby birdies!!!!” reaction they truly are some butt-ugly, scrawny, grey, half naked little dinosaur descendants. Just sayin’.

We’ll see if they’re starting to do all of that annoying peeping and begging for food 24/7 tomorrow. Maybe I’ll get some pictures.

Maybe I’ll lose an eye.

We have a wide variety of birds, mammals, reptiles, and insects, not to mention all of the flowers. Tonight I believe a member of the amphibian class has joined the menagerie. (I wouldn’t hold your breath waiting for any invertebrates or fish to show up, but hey, it’s 2020! Don’t count out anything.)

We hear peepers down the hill by the baseball fields, where there’s a flood control channel that’s got a couple of acres of wild wetlands where the channel dumps out of the hills by Castle Peak and forms Bell Creek, which meets up with a couple other creeks a mile or so away to become the Los Angeles River. On a hot summer night you can hear them, almost like being back home in Vermont.

But we’re up at the top of the hill and it’s a lot dryer. However, tonight there’s definitely one out on the back porch, somewhere over under the telescope and a set of shelves there. He’s loud enough so that I can hear him from two rooms away, even with noise-cancelling headphones on and playing music.

If I remember correctly (and I’m sure someone will correct me if I don’t) the noise level means it’s a “he” and he’s on the prowl for some hot amphibian lovin’.

Good luck, little frog dude. (I think you’re going to need it.)