We had a short heat wave.
And these house finches decided to make their nest in my bird feeder under a plexiglass dome. So the mother bird was sitting on her nest, her wings spread out.
She was literally panting.
She looked like she was in a Lamaze class, practicing pushing out a chicken egg. Poor little thing.
I thought her and her mate were smart, building their nest in a place where the blue jays couldn’t go and it’s next to food and water.
Then I realized they had made their nest in a solar oven. Her eggs were going to be cooked. It was like one of those exotic Asian dishes, roasted bird in nest with broiled eggs.
I couldn’t let this culinary calamity happen, so I decided to act fast.
I waited until the mama bird flew the coop; with the stealth of Bigfoot I opened our double-hung window and pulled the feeder inside. There was a cluster of five small, light blue eggs at the bottom of the nest.
I cleaned the plexiglass dome, wrapped a dishtowel around the top to block the sun and kept the finches from being fried.
I hung the feeder back where it had been and waited for mom to come back.