Three Little Birds

May 17, 2011 at 11:06 am · Filed under Life

Bob Marley’s lyrics to “Three Little Birds” took on new meaning when a Robin built a sturdy nest burrowed neatly into the wreath on my front door.

Although leaving the nest in place meant banishing me from the front of my house and relegating me to the much more inconvenient back door for months, it was well worth the trouble to experience the subsequent spectacle of HD Discovery Channel proportions.  The experience catapulted me through a rollercoaster of emotions from worry to wonderment as the whole process unfolded before my eyes like a live show of National Geographic.

Four delicate blue eggs arrived uncannily around Easter and not long after hatched pink, nearly bald, little squirming baby birds.  Every violent wind storm induced sleepless nights as I imagined the wreath being shredded and flung across my front porch in pieces like D-Day.  Mother Nature shows no preferential treatment.  This was devastatingly apparent when one of the four (I imagine) was pushed out by the others to meet his unlucky demise as the others grew stronger and much more quickly in size. 

The last bird standing seemed to sense the risk as he waited for days after the other two adventurously abandoned the nest and were already instinctively hopping about the sidewalk in guarded exploration.   Because the door was comprised of glass, I would often lift the blind making eye contact with the remaining bird and attempted to send him positive and reassuring vibes.  (And yes, in case you haven’t figured it out by now, I am a self-proclaimed extreme animal lover and hopeless hippie at heart). His continued reluctance to make the leap instilled even more anxiety in me knowing how fearful he must have felt with his sibling decomposing fore warningly below.

Yesterday marked the day the last one made the landing although he has seemed to set up camp in the safe haven of the porch; I was tickled to get video of him (or her?) swinging on my swing. Scenes like these push me even more in the direction of vegetarianism (especially as I imagined all of the hens stripped of their eggs while making my morning omelet). Yet, although I’ve successfully given up red meat over the last 10 years I still cannot imagine Thanksgiving with a Tofu turkey.

Overall, they continue to hang around my home with a curious sense of trust toward me, with the porch-ridden baby even allowing me to take this photo at close range without the slightest hint of fear.  

 Another lingered around outside my bedroom window all morning chirping away, while the third appears to be infatuated with my deck (that makes two of us). 

The parents still hang protectively close by once again reminding me that all living creatures, I believe, do share very inherent feelings with humans such as fear, and some even attachment.  We’ve known for ages that verbal language isn’t the only way to communicate and this amazing opportunity to watch first-hand how a Robin teaches its babies to fly or nurtures and protects its family was an interesting first-hand lesson on the notion of unique versions of “love” and family in wildlife.

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