REQUIEM FOR MY WANNA-BE ROBINS

 

Mrs. Robin sat on her beautiful, blue eggs all weekend as we came and went.  I said hello and good-bye each time.  She seemed facing a different way each time so I assume she was adjusting her warmth and rotating her eggs.  She watched me with her beady, little, suspicious, fearful eyes.  She was there when last I walk Gabriel Sunday evening.

This morning when I went out.  No Mrs. Robin.  No eggs.  Nest askew in the branches.  I am heartbroken.  My would-be grandchildren are no more for this season.  At least not from this laying.  Was it a squirrel?  A cat?  Some other nasty creature?

And, of course, I am feeling guilty because of the bush trimming that exposed her to begin with.  Sorry, Mrs. Robin.  Although there is no sorry that is enough for an unborn child.  It is a grief too deep even to be shared.  Sorry, Mrs. Robin.  Sorry.  Sorry.  Sorry.
 

CHALLENGES IN ROBINVILLE

 

Some kind of freak, fierce, forceful wind visited our domain whilst I was at work today.  Rubbish bins were scattered into the yard and the main, nest-sheltering top of the Japanese Holly bush was blown over ...

 .... leaving a gaping hole ....

... exposing the nest and gestating eggs of Mrs. Robin.

  

AND the maternal instinct of Mrs. Robin prevailed.  Thanks Be To God!



SNEAK PEAK

 

Mrs. Robin is very much in residence.  I see her beady little eye watching my every move as I go up and down the deck stairs.  And when I peek through the slats in the fencing I see her fluffed out over the whole nest.  And she just sits there and watches me.

She must have taken off for a while to grab something to eat so I got a quick peak over the top of the fence into her nest.  Three beautiful eggs.  I'm watching and waiting.
 

OOPS!!!

 

It was a perfect day in Connecticut.  For church, for yard work, for pruning of the overgrown Japanese Holly that resides next to our back steps.  As you can see I am only two thirds of the way finished because I ran into this: 

A VERY big oops.  It looks like kind of an old nest -- very weathered and grey, no new stuff in it.  Like maybe it has been there for a few seasons.  The three blue robin eggs inside, however, cannot be old.  I am feeling pretty awful.  Like having invaded someone's most intimate, personal space. 

I left off the pruning and went away from the nest out further into the yard to do other work.  I worked until tired and then retired to the deck for a beer and my book.  I was aware of birds NOT being around.  I sat there for a while recouping my energy and, finally, w a y  out back a robin started flitting around in and out amongst the branches.  Did not come anywhere near the deck, however.

We are inside now.  Perhaps they will feel a little more secure as time goes on.  Maybe not ...