Of Blackbirds and Baths

I wonder what it’s like to be a pregnant blackbird (if pregnant is the right term for a blackbird soon to lay eggs). I only ask because I saw an extremely fat lady blackbird yesterday, and she was thoroughly enjoying her time in my bird-bath. She splashed and flapped for some minutes, water flying everywhere. When she had finished she waddled around the edge of the bird-bath; but then changed her mind and got back in again, and had another good splash. I remember being pregnant, and the tightness of my skin, and I wondered if the cool water was soothing to her over-stretched belly. Finally she did indeed finish, and swooped heavily the short distance to the fence. She preened carefully, pulling her clean feathers into place, before fluttering into the laurel bush and the safety of her nest. A few minutes later her mate took his turn in the bird-bath. But his was only a perfunctory dip compared to the long thorough bath his lady had taken. I wondered how often that is reflected in human-kind, particularly in the young of the species!
As I filled up the bird-bath again this morning; I wondered how long it would be before a hoard of baby blackbirds were lined up around the bird-bath, by a scrupulously clean mother blackbird!



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