Mr. Gambel-Quail, we call him Dan, struts along the sidewalk outside my office window. His copper crown and long black tail feathers that barely drag the ground make him look like royalty. His gray suit is carefully trimmed with brown and white wings. Of course, he sports the signature bobbing topknot. His white vest and the reddish-brown circular belt buckle at his belly complete his costume.  He wears a black mask as if going to a masquerade.

Dan and his family have lived in or near our yard for generations. This year, he and his wife, we call Marilyn (not terribly original on our part) had fifteen babies. My husband calls them “eggs on legs”. They begin life so tiny it is hard to believe they can strut and run just like their parents.

Marilyn is dressed more conservatively. Her brown and white ensemble is topped with a simple waving top feather on her head. I cannot figure out how that little body can produce so many offspring in one season. It is fun to watch the pair of adults shepherd their tiny brood across the yard, into the nature preserve, or occasionally across the street; mom in the front and dad follows to make sure all stay in line. Inevitably, there is a stray that he has to corral back into the group.

Sadly, during the time the babies are growing their number decreases rapidly. When we first see fifteen of them, by the end of a couple of weeks only five or six are still toddling after their parents. Predators like snakes, hawks, coyotes, and rodents raid their nest. Within three months, the remaining two or three chicks are fully grown and, on their own.

Early in the morning, I put bird seed on the top of our stone fence pillars. We sit with our coffee on the back patio and watch quails vie with doves, desert wrens and smaller birds for seeds. The quail usually prevail because they are the biggest. Smaller birds move on to other pillars or to the block wall when the quail arrive. Fortunately, we have lots of space to accommodate the hordes.

When the young quail are too small to fly up to the top of the pillars, the adults go up and scratch seeds down to them.  Day by day, we witness the little ones gain in size and skill until they can fly up to the top of the four-foot posts. We enjoy watching flight school practice. Standing in the yard, eyeing the top of the pillar, they observe their parents. Then they take turns flaring their tiny wings and hopping up in an attempt to fly. In only a couple of weeks, one makes it, then another, and soon all get to the top, sharing space on the pillar, like angels on a pinhead. So many of them crowd together on one pillar.

By the end of June, all the babies are grown, and we can’t tell the parents from the kids. When next year rolls around, the cycle begins again, and we are entertained for three months by the Quail Family saga. Occasionally, more than one family shares our yard, but with the Preserve so close, most families find their own territory.