The Box Is Up. The Bluebirds Are Back.

March 20th. The female arrived first — she always does. She inspected the box for about four minutes, went inside twice, and left. By the 22nd, the male had joined her. We've been watching every morning since.

There is something about that first visit of the season that never gets old. You've had the box up since February. You've checked it every few days. And then one morning the light is right and there she is — that rust-orange breast, the blue-grey wings, hovering at the entry hole like she's deciding whether the neighborhood still meets her standards.

It does. It always does, because we've worked to make it that way.

The nest is being built now. She brings the grass in tight little bundles — fine, dry stems from the meadow behind the garage. He perches nearby, watching. Occasionally he brings a piece too, but mostly he watches. That's his job right now: keeping the house sparrows away and making sure she knows he's there.

Doug Tallamy writes that 96% of terrestrial bird species depend on insects to raise their young. The bluebird is the living proof of that number in our backyard. Every caterpillar she pulls from the native oak, every beetle she finds in the leaf litter — that's the food web working exactly as it should. The box is just the invitation. The native habitat is the reason they stay.

We'll keep you posted as the season unfolds. The cam is running. The nest cup is taking shape. Spring is here.