A Pictorial Chronology of Two Mayas : From Birth to Adulthood

Last June it was shade of serependity when I had the rare distinction of intruding into a maya’s nest deceptively hidden in one potted bush lodged in our building’s roof deck.

One bright morning, I almost stepped on a small wriggly mass of pinkish flesh on the slowly heating concrete floor of the deck, being devoured by a frenzied horde of small black ants. Stooping closer I could make out the crude outlines of an organism whose internal organs were visible from its diaphanous outer flesh. It was a newly hatched bird that much I knew. Picking it up and shooing with my fingers the busy clinging ants, I settled it on a small cup cushioned with a folded paper napkin and positioned the makeshift nest on top and in the safety of the observation deck I had constructed. Hoping the mother would return and minister to her young.

The following morning, a much greater number of ants had been busy on the definitely dead carcass of the hatchling. It was a disappointing sight, so disappointing I quickly grabbed the cup and dropped it at the bottom of the nearest sink and drowned all those black feasters.

It was then that I serependitously chanced upon the potted bush and realized in the midst of its thick foliage what I saw was a well-hidden bird’s nest. Poking closer and pushing aside leaves, I realized it was an occupied nest – quietly nestled in the middle where the outlines of two hatchlings and a still complete egg, maybe no bigger than half an inch across.

I decided to record for posterity and curiosity how these tiny life forms would develop to adulthood, in the midst of a very harsh and intrusive environment. Not discounting that this was in the middle of a busy bustling city, suffused with deadly vehicle exhaust, churning road dust, high-decibel traffic noise, and extreme daytime heat. No place really for, I had learned that they were mayas, this kind of bird which traditionally thrives in moist and cool country rice fields.

Since I only had a point-and-shoot camera it was decided that that would have to do for the exercise. It was no surprise that the pictures at times came out hazy and unfocused, or at times insufficiently lighted. But…

Also, I thought that taking shots every 2 or 3 days would be sufficient, taking weekends off, and shooting at different times of the day. The unhatched egg (probably a dud) would be the steady measure of the two hatchlings’ day-to-day development. All in all, it took 3 weeks for the two to develop fully and fly out of the nest, never to be seen again.

The two videos then shot by my Flip camera from my laptop are actually slideshows from start to empty nest.

BTW, there were previous blog entries for this same project:

Invading Privacy of Maya’s Nest
Week-old Today
Maya Updates
What A Difference Four Days Make
Ready to Fly The Coop
Bye, Bye, Birdie