The Robin-1

[Guest guest]

"Mommy! Mommy!" Jason, 6, runs up the gentle slope of our backyard

to where I am pulling weeds left over from last fall, his face

flushed with excitement. He beckons me to follow him down to the back

porch, and points to the outdoor rack which is still filled with the

refuse and other things which I did not put away for the winter.

Amidst the mess of potting soil, pots, plant food, unplanted seeds

and bubble blowing liquid, I see nothing. Nothing but a mess.

 

"Look, Mom, there is a robin's nest there." He points to the top

shelf of the rack. I hesitate and think to myself that he has to be

mistaken. Surely we aren't going to have another robin's nest this

year, and surely it is not going to appear on my back porch. Still,

to humor him, I follow. As I approach the porch, my mouth drops as I

see what is clearly a nest. It is perched almost precariously atop a

leftover salt carton, something I used in day's gone by to rid myself

of those pesky slugs which would greet me and my bare feet at night,

so slimy and gross on the floor of my porch when I would try to sneak

out for a moment's break into the evening air. (True confession of my

former violence to All That Was:-)

 

"How do you know it is a robin, honey?" I ask him. "I saw her flying,

Mommy. Is there a daddy robin too?" I'll answer that later. Right

now, I am just too curious to see what is in the nest. Right on my

back porch!!! I climb up a small ladder and look into the nest. It

is empty. Hmmm....I hope we won't scare the bird away. I just

cannot imagine her laying eggs in such a vulnerable place. I go back

up the yard, resume my spring cleanup, and peek down once or twice.

There she goes, and she lands on top of the nest and sits there.

 

And Jason is right...she is a robin...

 

As the afternoon wears on, each time we go near that part of the yard,

she flies away. I cannot resist. I have to look again. I climb up my

little ladder again and peek in. She laid an egg! Later, when I

look again, there are two, then three, and finally, four eggs in the

nest, composed of straw, dirt, twigs, a little bit of plastic green

Easter basket "grass" and other things that I cannot identify. I

lift the kids up so they can see the eggs nestled inside the nest.

They are so excited. Still, I cannot imagine her sitting on the nest

for them to hatch with us coming out on the porch. She flies away

each time we get near. I am a little concerned but realize there is

nothing I can do but sit back and watch the show.

 

As the next few weeks go by, she slowly gets accustomed to our

instrusions. In the beginning, every time I would come out onto the

porch, she would fly away. Then, she begain to ignore me completely

and continue to sit on the nest unless I ventured in that direction.

Near the end, she let me get pretty close before she beat feet onto

the fence nearby where she would watch me and chirp at me, clearly

unhappy that I disturbed her peace. Privately, I am hoping that she

has been able to sit on the nest enough for the birds to hatch.

 

Then, one day, Jason comes running into the kitchen, all aglow with

his news. "Mommy...mommy...come outside and see. Look! Look!" He is

jumping up and down and gesturing to me. I walk out to the porch,

when suddenly, little heads pop up out of the nest, chirping weakly

in unison for the mommy bird who has now flown away. They are

scraggly and hairless, their eyes still closed, just big bulges in

their little heads, almost transparent in their fragility. But they

are for real, all four of them, little wonders of nature, perched on

my back porch. Jesse, 3, jumps up and down too. "Mommy, I see them.

Yift me up...Yift me up!!! " he chimes in. "OK, but do not touch the

nest," I caution him as I heave, ho and grunt lifting my little

bundle of wriggly excited flesh into the air. The noise disturbs the

babies and they all come up again, straight into the air with their

beaks to the sky and their voices chirping in unison. One by one...

One... two...

three...

four

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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