Chickadees

This summer the chickadees returned and started another little batch -- two littles ones just outside my door. The one with his head sticking out was the first to leave the nest. The one behind him was much weaker and had a lot of trouble once he left the nest. I often put on gloves, roughed them up in dirt, and popped him back inside where he'd be safe from cats. Once he was so confused he tried flying and landed on my blouse peering up at me. Another time he simply chirped away until I fetched him from the hedges where his tiny wings were caught.
When the birds come back, --after a week in which I don't hear them at all and miss them! -- I think I see only three. The combination could be the two parent birds and one chick or two chicks and one parent. It's impossible for me to tell and I don't know enough about their habits.
When the chicks were young I witnessed both parents caring for them, often calling back and forth in their team work to procure food. They found small worms, caterpillars, and grubby types of protein to bring into the little box. Sometimes they appeared to be teaching the young various songs and calls: chicka dee dee dee, dee dee dee. I didn't hear the whistle -- the relaxed relief sound of their whistling song -- until after the nest was empty.