In other garden-dweller news, earlier this year a mourning dove nested on the storage shelf on our balcony and raised a chick. I wasn’t thrilled about it - in fact, I tried to throw out the nest several times, until I saw an egg in it - but we got used to each other. Here’s mom and the kid:
After some time, chick fledged, we pitched the nest, end of story. I thought. Tomorrow, H and I leave for a two-week trip to Scotland. I have a friend who will house-sit and take care of the plants and the cat while we’re gone. She is petrified of birds. Do you see where this is going?
On Thursday, the doves returned and started rebuilding. I tried like hell to discourage them, but they were very determined. Finally, I made the storage shelf as inhospitable as I could.
And then I went away for the weekend, hoping I had succeeded. I returned this afternoon and carefully scanned the shelf - no sign of birds. I breathed a sigh of relief and turned around to water my window boxes.
Sitting right on top of my damn dill. Two eggs this time. My phobic friend is going to try to deal, but I also had to enlist a neighbor to take over watering if the bird freaks her out too much. Never a dull moment.
But hey, tomatoes!
And I came home with a big bunch o’ beans from my upstate garden.
