IT'S OFFICIAL!
(maybe)
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| April 16, 2013 |
WE ARE
PURPLE MARTIN LANDLORDS!
Finally,
after five long years of waiting, they've come. My first pair!
"Remember
when you fell in love with me, and you didn't want to eat?" I asked James
shyly before supper last night. He was fixing spaghetti, something simple so I
could get back outside as fast as possible. "Like what I felt when I fell in love with you?" He
nodded. "Well, that's how I feel now," I said. "I don't have any appetite, and I don't have
TIME to eat either!"
Right now,
all I want to do is watch and be near them….
I researched long and hard about what kind of purple martin
house I should buy. I figured out the prime location on our property and how
far it should be from nearby trees. A successful martin house must have
starling-proof, crescent-shaped entrances. Bars across the porches to
discourage owls and hawks. A predator guard on the pole to stop snakes and
raccoons.
All in all, in honor of my 50th birthday in 2009 (I am
telling my age...you're welcome), we spent $400-plus for EVERYTHING. That
included a pre-assembled Coates Waters Edge three-level house with six two-room
compartments. The house’s "entrance foyer" further protected
nestlings from predators, I learned.
I won't even begin to tell you how many bags of cement James
used to set the pole. I lost track after 10. Or was it 15? (Then we found the
instructions, buried at the bottom of the shipping box.)
Ah, the pole. A telescoping pole, top of the line, of
course. We had the house up no less than a month when we were outside working,
and the house crashed down a notch! I was devastated. I called Birds Choice,
the pole manufacturer, and they shipped a replacement pole. Problem solved. Or
so I thought. Several days later, I happened to look outside and saw that the
house/pole had completely COLLASPED. I
cried. Because if we'd had martins, and that had happened, THEY WOULD HAVE
ABANDONED THE HOUSE AND NEVER EVER EVER EVER RETURNED.
EVER.
We contacted the company and reported what had happened.
James bought some long screws and nuts, and drilled into the pole's three
interconnected pipes. THAT never happened again.
Nor did we get martins that first year.
Or the second. Or third. In 2010, we even replaced the
starling-proof entrances with normal "round" entrances,
hoping/thinking that would solve our martin-less problem.
We took off the owl guards, too.
Nothing.
Oh, sure, we had a few casual lookers. They flew by. They
browsed. But no one stayed.
Year four, we had what we THOUGHT was our first martin to
stay overnight. I even blogged about the big event (March 12, 2012). To this
day, I'm still not sure of the bird species, but it sure looked and acted like
a martin. We were up before daybreak the next morning, and I got one photo of
the bird before it shot off into the air, headed south. We never saw it again.
Fast forward to spring 2013. It's April, and I've given up.
Again. Another year with no martins. I don't even have enough faith to ask God
to send me one. Isn't that a silly thing to pray for? What's more, I feel like
I'd be testing Him to ask. If only I'd believe more, then maybe He'd give me
martins? No, I can't set conditions. God doesn't. So I don't pray for martins.
But I do tell God, "I have faith in YOU, and You know my heart's true
desire. Your will, not mine." Then I let the matter go.
Last Saturday morning, James picked me up at the airport
from a four-day business trip. Not far from home, we rounded the corner onto
Cedar Street so I could admire the prairie verbena that’s still blanketing the
Meadow with purple.
"Look!" I exclaimed. "A purple martin!
Stop!" James braked the car, and I jumped out. In my blue skirt and cream
sweater, I stood at the edge of the Meadow, breathless, elated, just to SEE the
bird of my dreams swoop overhead.
This time, though, the martin didn’t leave. Instead, he
lingered on a nearby utility line. James later joined me, and we watched him
together. Maybe?......
We weren’t around during most of the next morning. I just couldn’t
resist a native plant sale at the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center in
Austin. That evening, the martin showed up again. But I just couldn’t let
myself hope. Not yet.
Then Monday, I watched and saw him! He DID return! When he flew
off, James and I decided to do a fast sparrow-nest clean out.
"I think we should take off the predator guard,"
he said. "That's the only thing that's different. Maybe that's what's
keeping them away." I agreed. The upside-down black bucket thing on the
pole didn’t seem to be helping in the least.
That afternoon, I saw THREE martins flying around the house!
I got photos of two. Before supper, I peeked out our bedroom window and saw
movement around the house. It was my lone martin guy, circling the house. Would
he stay the night? We sat in our lawn chairs behind the cedar fence in the
Meadow and watched. No, he didn’t stay. Instead, he left to sleep somewhere
else.
(This long saga WILL end. Stay with me.)
Yesterday. Tuesday now, 6 a.m. James and I got up so we could
martin watch before daybreak. With coffee, lawn chairs and my pink church
blanket around my shoulders, we set up headquarters again behind the cedar
fence in the Meadow. Seven o'clock came and went. No martins. Oh, well. We
tried! But later, from our bedroom window, I do see martins! TWO martins, in
fact! He's found a girl! I ran outside to see.
While I stood watching, the pair kissed on the top floor, then
scrambled inside the compartment. Oh, it HAD to be serious now! They'd agreed
on living arrangements! After five long years, we'd finally gotten our first pair of purple martins! Later, I saw them
go in and out of the middle floor compartment. Guess she’d changed her mind.
All day, I went in and out of our house to watch the
martins. I was in love.
Before supper, I noticed that a pair of martins was fixated
on the bottom floor compartment. Now what was up? Had a second pair shown up?
James said he’d seen two more martins show up. But supper was ready. I had to
eat first.
“Are you CHEWING?” he asked at the table, eyeing my plate of
quickly-vanishing salad and spaghetti.
“Of course!” I replied, smiling sweetly. But I did want to
get back outside and see what the martins were up to.
Back in my lawn chair, binoculars aimed at the house, I watched
the pair hunched on the bottom porch. The male appeared to be “hissing” (no sound, just a wide open mouth)
at the interior of the compartment. He acted somewhat aggressive. But was he
sick, I worried? Or was he trying to tell the female to check out the inside?
Were they afraid because it was a dual compartment? Was another male martin
inside?
Then they
switched sides on the porch, and the female hissed next. There was a scuffle a
time or two also, like the pair was either fighting each other or something
inside the house. I kept watching. I wasn't going to leave until there was an
ENDING! Soon James joined me.
Finally, I
could see something moving inside the house. A snake? WHAT WAS IT?! Then all
the sudden A MALE SPARROW FLEW OUT! They were intimidating the you-know-what
out of that guy so he'd never come back! James and I laughed and applauded at
the same time! We high-fived, too! "Way to go!" I called out to the pair. I don’t think that sparrow will ever set
foot back on that side of the house!
So as of
Tuesday evening, our newly married martin couple had staked out the south side
of the house, and the sparrows have the north side. So far, that is.
FINALLY, I AM A PURPLE MARTIN LANDLORD!
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| April 15, 2013...My lone subadult male who returned. |
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| April 15, 2013...Two of three martins that visited. |
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| April 15, 2013...My lone subadult male that stuck around. |
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| April 16, 2013...The next day, he found a girl! |
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| April 16, 2013...She's considering the middle floor. |
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| April 16, 2013...Uh, oh, we've got neighbors. |
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| April 16, 2013...You sure want this apartment? |
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| April 16, 2013...Time for bed. Long day that included a well-rigged orchestration against a sparrow intruder. As you can see, she decided on the top floor. Our brave male adult kept vigil outside the apartment until 8:15. He even stuck his head back out the door when he heard us putting away our lawn chairs and leaving for our house. |
UPDATE April 18, 2013--I am sad to report that only ONE martin returned to the house last night. He/she (evening light was too dim to be sure) sat on the porch alone for 15 minutes, then jumped inside for the night. Alone.
So maybe I'm not an official purple martin landlord after all. I guess we'll see what the next few days bring.
