The last bird flew the coop this morning. When I opened the living room blinds this morning, I saw that the bird was standing on the edge of the nest - just like his siblings had done yesterday afternoon. I called Pippi and Harry to hurry and come downstairs - because I thought the bird was going to fly soon.
They came and watched.
A parent bird came and fed the little one.
He settled down into the nest and I sent Pippi to get dressed.
I even let them eat their breakfast in the living room, so in case the bird decided to fly they wouldn't miss it.
About quarter after eight, I opened the window so that they could hear it and be clued in if something was happening (they were also reading the comics at the time). And I reminded them that in 15 minutes we were going to have to leave for school whether the bird had flown or not.
But as I turned my back to go back into the kitchen they both started shouting: He flew! He's gone! He flew away!
And so they didn't miss it - I did - but I saw the two yesterday, so that's fine with me. I'm so glad they saw it.
"It's not like it's a once in a lifetime experience or anything," Pippi said.
"It might be," I reminded them - you usually don't have the opportunity of a nest right outside your window. After all, how often does a person get a chance to see a bird take his first flight - and know it's the first flight?
And now the nest is empty. And as far as my question as to whether the birds come back to the nest. It doesn't appear they do. They've achieved their freedom. Good for them. I'm just so glad we were able to observe them from the time of their hatching until they flew away.