A Bumper Crop of Baby Mockingbirds

April. I get out of my gray car, and a gray bird with claws out takes a dive for the back of my head. It’s that time of year again in southeast Louisiana. Fledgling Northern Mockingbird time. A time of claws and noisy unmusical squeaks and adorable spotty youngsters who think they can tell their parents what to do and when to do it.

“Feed me. Feed me.”

As I lock the car, I glance up into the old pecan tree. There it is — a huffy-looking Mockingbird fledgling. I look away, bend to get my bags, pretend not to see.

The parent feels free to go to the baby and drop off the food. As long as the parent is close, the fledgling will stop squeaking. The birds creep away together without another sound.

I need not follow them. I know the drill. I only have to listen.

The whole neighborhood has come alive with the opposite of the beautiful song the Mockingbird is famous for.

“Feed me. Feed me.”

A few tips for photographing Mockingbirds

If you live in Northern Mockingbird breeding country, you’ll soon be hearing the same song — if you’re not hearing it already. If you’re wondering how a hobby birder got these photos without bringing down the wrath of the adult on her head, it’s really mostly a matter of having a long lens and listening for an opportunity.

I never want to stay too close too long to a crying fledgling. Either the parent will hang back from feeding the baby, or the parent will hit my head. Neither outcome is desirable.

My camera is a Nikon Coolpix P610. It’s not a pro camera, not for birds. But it has a built-in lens that lets you grab more telephoto images than you’d think with a hobby model. It’s an affordable, easy-to-carry super-zoom that does well enough to document my adventures.

Thus equipped, all I have to do is keep my ears open for crying fledglings. That scratchy voice carries a long way, so I’ve checked out plenty over the last few days. If the baby looks alarmed, or if the parents do, I retreat.

This morning, I got lucky. I stood in the shadows of my screen porch. The fledgling Mocker stood in the shadows of a protective leaf.

Click, click, click, and I’m done.

I’d ask you to do the same. We don’t want to harm the birds who give us so much pleasure. A fast photo is better than a perfect photo.

As a rule of thumb, never follow babies. Keep your distance, and make it snappy. Spend five minutes or less for a bird this close to the ground. (It’s a six-foot fence.)

And don’t worry about missed shots. If your neighborhood is anything like mine, you’ll be hearing them well into the summer. The fine folks at Audubon inform us:

They have been known to make as many as seven nesting attempts during a breeding season, and one female even set an astonishing record of laying 27 eggs in a single season.

Judging from the baby noise I get in my yard some summers, they’re all doing it at my place. Keep reminding yourself those scratchy screamers are going to grow up to be more of the beautiful singers that fill our neighborhoods with an endless variety of song.

“Feed me. Feed me.”

It’s their first song, but very far from their last.

An Update in Early June

We’re already into overtime with the baby Northern Mockingbirds. A couple of brand new fledglings have appeared today. They caught my attention when I glanced out the window to see two new babies hunched together in the drizzle.

Shortly thereafter, an adult bopped by. The babies began to beg, and I grabbed a quick snapshot of the adult looking completely exasperated.

It’s going to be a long summer.

If you enjoyed my baby birds, their story, or their photographs, I'd be so thrilled if you gently tapped that <3 button. Tips also accepted gratefully.