Remember that cool little bird who built his nest on my patio, and I got all emotionally invested in him?
About a two weeks ago, I noticed that he never went into the nest, but he spent a lot of time sitting on the wire near it. Last week, I saw him fly under the eave with a bug in his beak, like he was feeding something under there . . . like he'd found a mate, and started a family.
Late last week, I walked over there, and peeked at the nest. Two fledglings peeked back at me, and I wanted to give that little bird a bug shaped like a cigar.
Yesterday, they flew away.
I miss his song on my patio, but I couldn't be happier.