Taking turns to be fed

"I've only one beak!" says Mum.

Two bluetit babies -
life's a blur!
but Mother stays in focus.

She conjures nut bits
down their throats
with no hocus pocus.

poem © Celia Warren 2011

Poor old Mum (at least, I decided it's the mother)! Her feathers are drenched in this morning's rain, and two babies are both hassling her for more, more, MORE.

One of the juveniles had a go at feeding himself, while the other simply called for Mum: "Where's Mum to? I'm still hungry!" (Yes, they're Devonshire bluetits; that's how they phrase the question in these parts.)