suburban wildlife

Alternate title: Interrupting the Mallard series for desktop-clearing updates from the yard.

Photo of an adult Tufted Titmouse flying away from its nest box. The small bird is captured mid-flight, wings at full down-stroke, primary feathers fully spread. Most of the bird's feathers are silvery-gray, with very pale (almost white) coloration on its face, throat, chest, and abdomen. Its beak and eyes are black, and it has a prominent patch of black facial feathers from brow to beak. The nestbox is made of wood with the front panel and roof panels painted white. The wood just around the round entry hole is unpainted. The box is secured in a crepe myrtle tree by lengths of decorative black chain. — *The yard has always enjoyed regular Tufted Titmouse traffic, but none have stopped to nest. Until now. Photo taken April 30, 2026.*

Opening exposition: Blogging while OCD

My desktop is too full for software updates. Which is just ridiculous.

During all these months (yes, going on years) of Mallard perseveration, of following OCD currents deep into the Mallard Mine, other subjects have wandered into camera-focus. Folder after folder has sprouted on my desktop, but I wanted to finish the Mallard series before posting anything else.

Except, “wanted to finish” isn’t quite accurate.

My particular OCD came with a complimentary overstock of unfinished-task discomfort, so “wanted to finish” really means “wanted to stay comfortable”. Especially in my freest of free time—my creativity and blogging time.

And yet here I sit, eight Mallard posts in and unknown Mallard posts to go, dealing with an uncomfortable case of “wanted to finish” vs. “not enough memory”.

Discomfort upgrade, unlocked.

Fortunately, our improvised Tufted Titmouse nest box stepped in with a throat-clearing opportunity.

My next several posts are Project Desktop Decongestion.

Zoom photograph of the nestbox's round entry hole. Visible against the dark cavity inside the nest box, two nestlings are crowded into the entry. One is begging, open-mouthed, flashing the bright yellow edges of its beak against the redness of its gape. (These yellow-bordered red gapes, present in many species of birds as nestlings and fledglings, make conspicuous targets for parent birds, when they come to feed.) The other nestling is peering over the edge of the entry hole, closed beak and forehead barely in view. — *These two nestlings aptly represent my OCD quirks vying for attention at psyche’s doorway. Loud, conspicuous, and effectively blocking traffic both ways.*

Inviting the Titmouse Family

I have just enough woodworking skills and resources to support a recurring nest box habit. I usually make wren boxes, because they don’t require detailed joinery work and they don’t take much wood. Plus, I like wrens and chickadees.

When a Tufted Titmouse pair made repeated visits to a wren box in our front yard, this spring, their interest sparked my interest. The wren box was too small, and the Titmice (Titmouses?) were too appealing to ignore.

I spent a morning patching together scraps of cedar and pine, trying to meet the internet’s recommended dimensions for Tufted Titmouse nest boxes. Essentially, a box at least 8″ high, with a minimum 4×4″ floor, and a 1.25″ entry hole that is 6″ above the nest box floor.

(Please pardon the odd paint job, in these photos and videos. I ran out of cedar before cutting the front and roof panels, so I used pine. But the pine wanted paint, so I painted the pine bits. Except right around the entry hole, which I left bare because I didn’t want the birds dealing with paint flecks coming off on their feathers and toes.)

When I placed the new box in the wren box location (no wrens had shown up, so the wren box was vacant), the Titmouse couple moved right in. And, despite the nest box’s improvised materials and measurements, it soon housed nestlings.

Video of the entry hole of a Tufted Titmouse nest box. (Please pardon the shaky hand-hold camera work. Maybe don’t watch too closely if you are prone to motion sickness….) Audio is the nestlings inside the box calling for attention. Video taken May 3, 2026.

The parent birds were very secretive, in their visits, and tended to stay away if I lurked in the yard with my camera. So there aren’t many photos.

Photo of an adult Tufted Titmouse exiting the nest box. The bird is carrying a packet of nestling excretions away from the nest, which is a regular part of nest housekeeping for many bird species. — *A quick dash in and out, to deliver food and carry away a packet of excrement. Photo taken April 30, 2026.*

After a stretch of increasing clamor and activity, we woke one morning to an empty nestbox. The family had fledged and moved on. The yard’s first Tufted Titmouse nest had come and gone, leaving me happy and wistful, as is my usual reaction to the yard’s various fledgings.

Second Chances

We noticed more activity around the box within weeks. And soon there were fresh voices calling for food.

These parents were not so secretive. They made regular visits to the box, even when we were in the yard. Occasionally, if we ventured too close to the box, they scolded from nearby trees (as you can hear at the end of the next video), but they didn’t seem to mind polite observation from zoom-distance.

Zoom photograph of an adult Tufted Titmouse perched on a crepe myrtle branch over its nest box. The small bird is looking at the camera with one eye, beak open and feathers slightly ruffled. Its gray crest is flattened almost completely to its crown, the peak barely visible over its nape. Its feathers are gray over its wings and back, with a smudge of orange under the wings, and pale tan from its throat down to its chest and abdomen. Pale feathers cover its cheek between beak and eye, and there is a badge of darker feathers on its forehead. Its sharp beak is black, and its thin legs are gray. — *Too busy feeding the nestlings to worry about paparazzi. Photo taken June 27, 2026.*

I wish that I had the ear power to separate out the voices, so I could know how many nestlings were in the box. They sounded like a crowd. Disclaimer: I didn’t realize the adult bird was in the box, when I started filming. Video taken June 21, 2026.

When the nestlings began peeking through the entry hole, I spent a great deal of time lurking in zoom-distance.

Zoom photograph of a Tufted Titmouse nestling peering out of the entry hole of its nest box. The nestling's face is framed in the entry hole. It has gray down and feathers, and its beak has the prominent down-turned yellow margin at the corners of its mouth that are typical of many bird species' nestlings. The downturned mouth and fluffed down/feathers make the young bird appear grumpy. — *Tufted Titmouse baby is not amused by what it sees outside its door. Photo taken June 26, 2026.*

Zoom photograph of a Tufted Titmouse nestling peering out of the entry hole of its nest box. The nestling is looking upward, showing the downy light-gray feathers of its throat and chest. A hint of downy topknot is just visible. Its beak has prominent yellow margins at the downturned corners that make it appear to be frowning. — *I can’t help reading human emotions into these expressions. The nestlings looked so very grumpy. And a tiny bit pitiful. Definitely a face that is impossible to resist. June 26, 2026.*

Zoom photograph of a Tufted Titmouse nestling leaning out of the entry hole of its nest box. The nestling's downy crest is partially raised, adding emphasis to its seemingly grumpy expression. Its crest and dorsal feathers/down are dark gray, while its throat and chest feathers/down are light gray. Its black beak has prominent yellow margins at the downturned corner, making the young bird appear to be frowning. — *And there it is..the downy nestling-version of a Tufted Titmouse crest. June 26, 2026.*

Imagination’s Voiceovers

Am I the only one who imagines dialogues, for the interactions in my yard?

On the evening of the 26th, the nestlings were shouting from the entry hole as their parents foraged in nearby trees. What I actually heard was, most likely, nestling begging and adult reassurances. But what I imagined was children who wanted to get out of bed and parents who answered no, not tonight, not now, we’ll fledge some other day…

Video of a Tufted Titmouse nestling calling from the entry hole of its nest box. Audio includes the nestling’s calls, as well as answering calls from adult birds foraging in nearby trees. Video taken June 26, 2026.

By June 27th, the nestlings were leaping into the nest box entrance to feed. Competition seemed stiff, with two and sometimes three nestlings scuffling over the prime spot.

I caught a few feeding sequences, but the following sparked voiceover mode. (With apologies to The Little Shop of Horrors, A Fish Called Wanda, and Another Brick in the Wall.)