The beauty of nature is apparent at this time of year. Fledglings are being fed by their parents, so that they can grow up to forage on their own. Their little peeping calls allow their parents to find them in dense forest. Parents will return with a beakfull of worms (probably) to daintily place in their offsprings’ loud yellow gape.

Aw. How sweet.

Some poor parents, however, are assaulted by their demonic, squawking children, who promptly beat them with their wings until they can shove their entire face into their poor parents’ mouths. Having achieved this, they thrash and gyrate to get the most out of the meal, until the adult has had enough and escapes.

I am so glad that I’m not a bird.