How These Tiny Birds Raise So Many Babies _ Nest Box Cam Full Story of Chickadee Family

After a long and cold winter, my feathered friends were ready for signs of the warmer days of spring, a busy time when they start preparing to bring a new generation into the world. Many of our songbirds only raise one brood, maybe two, in a whole year, so it's a big deal. One such songbird is the black-capped chickadee, a very familiar character to many people. And yet, however familiar, we only get a little window into their world. Since they nest out of view inside of trees, so much of what goes on during nesting is left to our imagination. A great thing about these cute birds, though, is that they will use a birdhouse to raise a family in. Nest boxes that can hold a camera inside will allow a person to observe and study these birds, giving insight into their behavior. That's just the opportunity I was hoping for when I saw that Inky, a distinct chickadee, had paired up with Philbert, a male I've known for a long time. Luckily, a few years ago, we were given a nest box with a blank security camera from Birds Walking Down, who makes these birdhouses. We already had success back then with that box from Philbert and his mate at the time, Phoebe, who raised six healthy babies to fledging. Not wanting to waste any time, we set everything up at the end of March. The box was placed on an eight-foot pole facing southeast. We put some cedar wood chips inside. These act as moisture absorbers, keeping things dry. Another thing it does is give them the sense of excavating a hole in a tree as they remove the wood chips. This is because chickadees dig out their own cavities in trees, carrying the bits of wood away. Now for the wait. Today, we were delighted to see Inky checking the place out. If she removes some wood chips, it will be a good sign she's interested in nesting here. After a couple of weeks of them coming by but not doing much, we finally got some action. 7 30 each morning, they began work. To show he is a good provider, Philbert took breaks to bring Inky food offerings. Inky has some endearing traits about her, like being investigative, often staying in the hole to scrutinize the box, which led her to discovering the camera up above. She can be so fixated on it that Philbert couldn't get out. He had to push his way through, causing Inky to get a good look at the camera. After a week, she still had curiosity toward that strange apparatus above. Inky also likes to clean house, so to speak. She removed nearly all of the wood chips. I found that odd considering that Philbert's previous mate Phoebe only removed half. Could this mean Inky is young and inexperienced? Nonetheless, with there being practically nothing left, Inky came back and dug at the bottom. Not much more could go. Now their visits became infrequent, and other birds were taking an interest in the box. A starling wanted to get in. Luckily, the hole being one and a quarter inch, there was no way it could fit through. Never saw it again. Then a house sparrow started coming by. Never had a problem before with one getting in, but that was about to change. Not good. House sparrows are known to take over nests. Inky and Philbert could get hurt. That's the last thing I wanted. Luckily, neither of them had been by yet, so I researched what I could do. It turns out that some house sparrows, if small enough, can get through a one and a quarter inch hole, but that they cannot get through a one and one eighth. Chickadees, though, should be small enough to fit. However, northern chickadees are larger, so there's a possibility they won't fit. We were left with no other option but to install the new one. It wasn't long before they came by to get to work. Both of them were able to get through. Good thing, because now they started bringing moss. I've been waiting for this as it would tell me they are committed. The moss makes up a soft base to which the nest is built on. It took them just a few days to collect all that they wanted. Now Inky started bringing some nest material to make bedding. Things like plant fibers and fur from animals. I found one of her sources, a pellet, probably from an owl or pine marten. This is the undigested parts of the food that is regurgitated. It was exciting to me, so I shared it with my husband. His response was funny. He got a point, but I guess one man's trash is another man's treasure. Or in this case, one bird's regurgitated waste is another bird's nest bedding. This evening I was surprised to see Inky in the box at 7 30. Normally she is done for the day between three and five. It's looking like she's settling in. If so, this could be a good sign she's getting ready to lay eggs. It was clear Inky was staying the night once it got dusky. The last bird to nest in this box was Phoebe, but Inky would prove to be quite different from Phoebe. Overnight the camera caught Inky doing something strange. It looked like a watered down version of the snake display. The tail fanned out and the head thrusting forward. The snake display is a tactic females use while nesting if an intruder tries getting in. There were no intruders though and the strike wasn't very forceful. She looked groggy. I wondered if she was in the middle of dreaming. First night in the box could have had her a little mind on high alert. After an active night, Philbert greeted Inky very early. With little sounds and nudges, he tried to get her up and on the go. Maybe some Phoebe calls from outside the box will do the trick. It worked. For the next couple of mornings, Philbert came by the same time to wake her, but she would never get up. What a sleepy head. The term the early bird gets the worm doesn't seem to fit Inky. He learned to stay in the hole waiting for her to wake up. The adorableness of his beady eyes blinking as he watched her. These are the moments we wouldn't get to see if it weren't for a camera inside. Any day now, she should lay her first egg. Overnight on May 21st, it happened. The first glimpse. Incubation won't begin though until Inky has laid all the eggs that she is going to. For black-capped chickadees, this can be anywhere from 1 to 13 eggs. I hoped to see more eggs today, but it didn't happen. Before settling in for the night though, Inky did something out of the ordinary. She covered up under the bedding. Is she cold? It does look like she has missing or damaged feathers, which could make her more susceptible to the cold. How did she ever get through the freezing winter we had? Whatever the case, Inky stayed like this all night. The next evening, we saw that she had another egg. One egg a day is supposed to be laid, but that's not how it's going with Inky. Each day, I check to see if Inky has more eggs, but she does a good job of covering them before the camera can catch anything. Inky hides her eggs to ensure no other birds destroy them. It also maintains the temperature of the eggs, and this spring has been exceptionally chilly and wet. Maybe she also doesn't want the camera to see them. For some reason, later in the evening, Inky made a new spot to sleep. She really covered herself up, too. Never saw Phoebe do these sorts of things. Snug as a bug in a rug. The next morning, when Inky awoke, something unexpected happened. She went to the other corner of the box. Shortly after, when she moved, an egg was there. Why did she lay an egg over there? For the next week, she slept up in that corner. It's as if she abandoned the other eggs. Each day, I watch for her to lay more, but it remained just this one, which is unusual. Today, Inky picked around where the other eggs were. I guess she remembers them, at least. Later that evening, though, she went back to that one little egg. At 7 p.m., she laid another. So now she has two up in this corner, and who knows how many down in the original spot, but at least two for sure. By the next morning, she had three eggs up there. When she returned for the night, though, Inky finally went back to her original eggs. I didn't get to see how many she had. I hoped to get a peek when Inky left the next morning, but I didn't. With Inky gone for the day, I turned my focus towards setting up another nest box at the end of a nearby open field. We modified the box to hopefully house tree swallows. Wasn't long before we got a visitor. A boreal chickadee. We'd be happy if it claimed the box, so we added some wood shavings, but they never came back. Instead, they went to Inky's box while she was gone. The little one never caused any trouble. In the evening, when Inky came back, we were in for quite the surprise. Six eggs, possibly seven. Including the three up in the corner, she has laid at least nine so far. Incredible. But what will she ever do about the other ones? Laying eggs is physically demanding. Philbert, somehow knowing this, made sure to bring food more often today. One of his trips, he made a point to look at Inky's progress. She spends more time at the nest now. I wonder if she is done laying eggs. I don't know, but I do know one thing for sure. If the amount of food Philbert drops off to Inky in a short time is any indication, he should be a good provider to his nestlings when they arrive. At 7.45 the next morning, we got a glimpse of nine eggs. By 3.30 that day, 10. There are a total of 13 eggs inside this box. Now, with all the eggs she can lay, much of Inky's time turned to keeping them warm and rotating them. So, if incubation started on the 6th of June and Chickadee's warm eggs were 12 to 13 days, they should begin hatching around the 18th of June. This stage of nesting is pretty mundane, but from time to time something cute happened. Like Philbert coming by with food while Inky was out. How sweet he was looking at her eggs Is he pleased, I wonder? One time, Inky showed up. Don't recall hearing a male sing the Phoebe song like that before. Just as I had hoped, the tree swallows showed up to check out the other box. No matter the modifications we made, they instead were interested in Inky's. That ticked her off. With the hole only 1 and 1 8th, there was no way they could get in. Had it been 1 and a quarter, the female would have fit through. I know that from last year. Eventually, they lost interest and now Inky could settle back in. When the 18th rolled around, I looked for signs of the first external pip, but it was hard to see. This is when the chick is beginning to hatch and a crack forms in the egg. The process can take hours. At 2 18 in the afternoon, the first nestling broke through. Welcome, little one. Nine more to go. The hatchling wasn't responsive to feeding. This was worrisome, but the level of dedication Philbert showed was moving. Then Inky came. With such gentleness, she delicately attempted feeding her baby. It wasn't working out. Breaking through an egg must be an exhausting task. With unwavering commitment, the parents tried and tried, but no luck. Finally, with a gaping mouth, the little head sprung up, accepting the food. From then on, things went more smoothly. Two hours later, a second nestling made it out of its little abode. Another hour later, a third one joined. Eating egg shells is something many mother birds do. It helps to replenish the calcium lost during egg laying. Plus, she doesn't have to risk leaving to discard it. By the 20th, two eggs were left. Still two on the 21st. Wasn't looking like they were going to hatch. Finding enough food to bring back to the nest is the main job of males. He also has a strong willingness to be part of feeding the nestlings. It's pleasant watching these two, better than anything on TV. Being so enthusiastic as she is, Inky has been out hunting from the start. It's always a nice break though when the food finds its way to the nest. Right on cue, feeding began around 5 30. If the babies don't wake up to eat upon the parents' arrival, they will make a little chod noise or whistle, causing their heads to spring up instantly. At this stage, the fecal sacs can be consumed because much of the nutrients remain. There's been an off color inside the box. Outdoors too. An ominous yellowish hue. Inky has also been using one of her wings to blanket the nestlings. I think I know why. The forest fires that have been raging through my country, but luckily not my province. Didn't stop the wind from sending the smoke toward us though. Although not life-threatening, it was definitely a problem, causing people with asthma or other lung problems to feel the effects. I've even been coughing lately. Inky must be protecting her babies. My heart aches for the people and animals in those areas. Inky is very adamant about being the one who feeds the babies. A funny thing is seeing her snatching the fecal sacs from Filbert. He tries snatching it back. Inky does that with the food Filbert brings too. There's no trouble telling who is who when feeding the nestlings. Inky often stands with her legs wide apart, and she's right in on the nestlings. Filbert stands back a little and legs more together. Feeding babies and taking out the diapers aren't the only duties. A lot of Inky's time is spent ridding the nest bowl of parasites. She also preens her little ones. Inky can get so carried away that she practically hauled a nestling up out of the cup. Sunshine or rain, these two work tirelessly each day. All the rain we've been getting finding insects hasn't been a problem. Inky's beak full of grub is a testament to that. Every now and again, the two eggs that hadn't hatched are seen. Surprising that they haven't been crushed. After a very productive day of feeding, the nestlings, content with full bellies, got some good sleep. Inky still snatches food from Filbert. Maybe she feels he isn't as good at it. Filbert is getting quicker. Several times he managed to get past Inky and feed the nestlings fully by himself. He may have got past for feeding, but Inky was ready to grab the fecal sacks before Filbert could. It's like there's some competition between them. Who can feed the babies the most and take the most diapers out? The nestlings are growing so quickly that the cup is getting overcrowded, leading one to go outside of the cup for some space. That tiny tail, adorable. More and more, they are looking like chickadees. Their white bellies and cheeks, and black bibs and black caps. The nestlings are becoming more active too. Preening a lot, stretching, and even airing out their wings. During the feedings lately, I've been struck by just how dazzling it is when all eight beaks are open. That bright orange. Normally, chickadees nest inside of trees without the luxury of a window. This glowing color may help parents see where to put the food in the dark. After spending each night with her babies since hatching, tonight will be the first one without their mother. Most female birds stop staying with their young when they are bigger. They still have one another to cuddle and keep warm. Something unusual happened today from one of the nestlings. While Inky was in the hole, a nestling did what looked to be the snake display. I never knew that they could do that at such a young age. As with its mother several weeks ago, it seemed to be sleeping too. Must have inherited Inky's active mind. The nestlings often preen and touch each other. It's so pleasant to watch. How much longer before fledging? The box is looking full these days. We try our best to not disturb the box too much, but with the battery low, we had to change it out. We were anticipating them leaving any time now. The babies became very still and quiet. Even afterward when we were done and Filbert came with food. In no time they were back to their normal selves. It's weird how little these guys do. No one has been checking out the hole. Phoebe's bunch from a few years ago were way more exciting. These guys seem happier with snuggling and picking at each other. Finally one brave soul took a look. The others seemed to cheer him on. It won't be long now, so we set up a camera outside to catch the big moment when it happens. After all day anticipating their departure, it was clear once dusk crawled in that today wasn't going to be the day. Will it be their last night? The next morning things were going along as they typically do. Some activity at times, but nothing amazing. One nestling entertained itself by pecking at the box. As with our own babies, these guys too lose themselves in the simplest of activities. By noon the excitement picked up. The fledging ladders come in handy with helping them get up to the hole. And just like that, the first one was out of there. A minute later, the second. Then another minute, the third. One nestling stayed head first in the corner. Maybe it was all too much. The sixth one was feeling a little hesitant. Outside Filbert could be heard feebing. A father chickadee's encouraging words that it is safe to leave. All eight fledged in just seven minutes. Didn't see that coming. It went so quickly. Locating all eight was hard, but I did find most of them later that day up in the same tree. I'd say the others were tucked away. Inky is up to something though. Her and Filbert were checking out the other nest box. When I looked, an egg was inside. No nest, just a lonely egg on a hard cedar wood floor. Is she actually going to try for a second brood? Why not the box she was using? There's three eggs she didn't end up incubating. I'd say the window of opportunity for them is closed now. It's been way too long. Doesn't matter anyway. She's committed to this nest box. Only every few years chickadees will try for a second brood. Taking place during seasons with an unusually high population of their favorite insects. One of her trips out getting nest bedding, a bumblebee found its way inside. Inky's reaction was all too cute and similar to how we react. Just like us, chickadees don't like to see a bee in their home. With it gone, she went back to work. How many will she have this time? By the 13th of July, she had two eggs in the cup. A couple of days later, I noticed her picking around down in the corner of the box. The next day became clear what. Inky was determined to get that egg over with the others. A few days later, she managed to get it in the cup. Today, the box was greeted with the first nestling. Shortly after the little one hatched, it poured. The raindrops hit the box with loud thuds. By the next morning, another nestling had broken through. As the days went by, it was looking like the third egg wasn't going to hatch. That was until the 31st of July came around. A bit behind the other two siblings, but I was happy to see the little one. That was about to turn to sadness, though. A few days after hatching, the little one passed. Inky removed the poor thing shortly after. These things are part of the reality of watching wildlife. Nature is both beautiful and harsh. After close to a month, Philbert brought the fledglings from the first brood back to their hatch place. It's good getting to see some of them, and I noticed that one of them had some darkish markings on its belly like Inky. The others didn't. By August 13th, the two nestlings were getting ready to leave the only home they've known. It's time to meet the big world outside. These four walls may have seen the loss of one unfortunate babe that hatched too late, but it also saw two chicks to a successful departure. Today, the forest is blessed with two extra chickadees. Never did I think that Inky and Philbert would deliver such a wonderful nesting experience. One filled with much fun, curiosity, surprises, and many touching moments. Inky still had one last surprise. A parting gift, if you will. As I cleaned out the box, I came across an egg underneath the nest. Must be the egg that was inside the box before she had the nest built. Inky laid four eggs in this box and 13 in the other. 17 eggs in total for one season. And as for the two fledglings, well, they decided that this place was exactly where they wanted to stay for the rest of the year. The wooden post where their home once rested and the feeders being their favorite spots. After watching Inky and Philbert raising their two broods, I've come to see just how amazing these familiar little birds truly are. How such a tiny bird can manage to raise so many young is astonishing. I hope you enjoyed this little video. Thank you for watching. And thank you very much to Birds Walking Down. Happy birding!