Mrs Bertha Blackbird (as we have christened her) managed to lay her eggs. We couldn't see them as she's on quite a high ledge but my daughter climbed a ladder and putting her hand in the nest while Bertha was out foraging, felt the three eggs there. We were quite thrilled about it. I was still nervous, mind you, that they'd never all fit in this nest. However, time proved me wrong and soon we could see the little necks straining up, beaks wide open, piping to Mrs B to come and give them their grubs. She worked tirelessly and didn't seem to mind our coming and going, just flew over out heads. She chose this place so she had to get used to it.
After some chasing around the kitchen, I managed to catch the wee thing and stroked its little head to calm it down. Then left it under a bush nearby for its mother to find and feed. The next day, I had a feeling the rest of the brood had gone also and they had. So all was well and Bertha's determination paid off. Later I saw one of the youngsters, now quite large and doing it's own foraging. If only our own kids grew as fast and were independent so soon!
I tidied up her nest for her, clipping away some of the tumbling leaves and bits of straw. My husband was all for taking it away but I knew she would return. Sure enough she's there again today, sitting on a much tidier nest!... and ready to produce the next brood. It's wonderful to be so close and able to watch the process happening. I've never had that marvellous experience before.