Outside our kitchen window, we have a bird feeder hanging high in the air in order to frustrate the red squirrel who manages to squeeze himself through the outside screen, in order to reach the feeding tube in the center.
Last week we saw that the feeder was stuffed with twigs. "Damn tht little bugger!", I thought, "He found a way!" We emptied the twigs.
Then the next morning, we saw a small bird rebuilding her intended nest. "This," she was humming to herself, "is an ideal location. Good food, a tight roof, and safe from raccoons."
We condeded to her, and wish her well.
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