The last several mornings the Killdeer have been all over our case as fuzzy feet does his paws up routine in the barrel pit.
Though they've had one hatching already this summer I figured they might have more eggs in the gravel along side the road. Boy, they are so hard to spot.
This morning my hub called to me from his mowing machine and asked me to check a patch of bark in the yard - he too was being given the what for. And there they were. Four eggs.
It's been a tough spring on our birds - the heavy winds and rains have dumped nests, the raiders have left remnants of their successes, the laws of nature continue ever onward.
It was just about a year ago, around the time I started blogging, that I had spotted eggs for the very first time. Out of those four only one chick made it. I hope for better this year. It's about renewal I guess and eternal optimism - in a more simple manner than what we're bombarded with on a daily basis. I'll do my best to keep the neighbor's cat away; the mower won't get them for sure. I'll hope for the best as is my way. And then there will be next year.