In the time of feathers

The Tickell’s blue flycatcher hatchlings in the bar stool nest are six days old. If I’ve got it right, they have about eight days left before they take flight.

This short span—from hatchling to fledgling—is a time of rapid, silent transformation. From blind, jelly-like beings to birds with feathers, balance, curiosity, and the beginnings of independence. So much happens in these two weeks. Growth you can’t hear, but can feel, if you’re watching closely.

And I have been.

Their diet tells the story. In the early days, it was soft-bodied insects, larvae, and caterpillars—gentle, protein-rich food for tiny bodies. Now the parents bring crane flies, spiders, longer worms—and today, a common house gecko.

Tickell's blue fly catcher with a gecko meal for its hatchlings

How do they know? What inner compass guides these choices?

The chicks are fed all day long, their beaks rising and falling like a quiet tide. And with each meal, something inside them shifts, strengthens, readies itself.

This is the time of feathers. The time before the leap.

Postscript:

For those who may find it unsettling—yes, the image here shows a house lizard in the parent bird’s beak. It’s not an easy moment to witness. But it’s part of the story: a glimpse into the quiet, unsentimental work of raising young, where every beakful counts.