The Gift of the Robin can only be received if you pay attention to what they do. This year I’ve had the time and I’d like to share.
There’s a birds nest on our back door light fixture.
The fixture is of a boxy design. The black metal top holds the electrical components and features a motion sensor. The bottom is a dirty yellowed plastic cover for the light bulb.
It doesn’t work very well. Sometimes it shines a sickly yellow ominous light. Other times it flickers in a strobe effect reminiscent of the industrial fluorescent bulbs pending doom in a haunted hospital. Sometimes it shines ridiculously bright and sometimes it doesn’t work at all.
But we don’t change it because its home to a birds nest.
The light fixture is a great location for the bird’s nest. It is protected from the rain and sometimes snow by the eaves as well as being warmed by the forced air heat escaping from the poorly insulated walls and ill fitting door.
Occasionally, the North wind of a strong storm will knock it down during the year but it’s always rebuilt in the spring.
First Come the Wrens
In March, the nest is inhabited by wrens.
March is when we start cleaning up the back yard after the temperamental Midwest winter. We’re lucky to get out one day week. Average temperatures are usually in the low 40’s and precipitation is high, consisting of rain, sleet or snow. On those rare days we can get out, we see the wrens flittering back and forth adding to the structure by bringing bits of dead grass and twigs.
Its a big nest, much bigger than the wrens need. I can’t see them when they’re sitting in there and I’ve never seen baby birds leaving. I don’t know if they actually use the nest or if they’ve just been hired to repair the home for its April tenant.
Here come the Robin’s
In April the wren’s are chased away by a couple of Robins.
A Robin couple, male and female, to be exact. They continue the building and reinforcing of their nest. And it is their nest. They would be here whether or not the wrens came first. The Robins would be here even if there wasn’t a nest. They come every spring, like they own the place.
The robin’s are much more vocal about our presence. The wrens just fly in and out ignoring us. The robin’s yell at us every time we open the back door, every time we walk past the light, and anytime we happen to be near their home.
I watch them hop through my yard on drizzly days, poking holes in the ground looking for earthworms and grubs.
“You can have all the grubs, Mama Bird but please don’t eat all my worms.”
They hop around the compost pile uncovering earthworms and the over-ripe berries that the Padawan refused to eat. Birds aren’t nearly as picky as little boys.
For 2 weeks or so we watch them and argue with them. The daddy bird, with his bright red chest and beady black eyes, yells at us from the string of patio lights on our Texas lamp posts.
The Mama Bird, duller in color and getting rounder by the day, chirps from the garage roof, 10 feet away from the nest.
Eventually I suggest we stop using the back door for a few days.
“She’s about ready to pop, let’s not stress her out.”
Every time we open the door, they fly away in a panic, squawking in protest. Sometimes they come alarmingly close to knocking off the Renaissance Man’s hat. He yells at them. They startle him as much as we startle them.
I’m more reasonable in my approach. I try to reassure them that they are safe and that we won’t hurt them.
However I’ve also been overheard shouting at the squawking couple, “This is my home too!”
The Robin and the Egg
Robin’s lay one egg a day and usually take a few days to lay them all. They won’t lay more than 4 eggs in a nest. But not all of the eggs laid are viable. Sometimes she’ll toss one out of the nest and start over.
In roughly a week, she will have laid all 4 of her eggs. Now, she begins the marathon of incubating. From this point on, she won’t leave the nest for more than a few minutes. If she does, it’s usually to grab a snack. Her partner, the Daddy Robin has been seen leaving grubs or worms on the ground for her. Unfortunately, she also flies to the safety of the garage roof every time the back door opens. She chirps insistently until the coast is clear and returns quickly, wiggling her body as she settles in on the eggs.
The Robin Eggs Hatch
After 2 weeks the eggs begin to hatch and then the real work begins. Mama and Daddy Robin are in a constant hunt for food as a cacophony of chirps are heard from above the light fixture; hour after hour, even at night, or so Dark&Twisty tells me. Her bedroom window is only a few feet from the back door.
At first they are pathetic little chirps as bald wobbly heads peak up from the tops of the nest whenever mom and dad return with the goods.
Sometimes these pathetic, featherless creatures are knocked out of their nest. At this stage they don’t survive the fall and we all feel sad about the loss. I will bury the poor babes out of respect because, they fall right outside our back door, onto the deck where nature can’t reclaim it. It’s probably not important to the birds but it is important to me. Life, however short it existed, should be honored.
For those that survive the early days, their feathered heads are seen more frequently and their chirps become more insistent as they demand more and more food. Mom and Dad fly back and forth all day long. I make a point to turn the compost more frequently, stirring up more worms for them.
Moving On
By mid May those hatchlings are crowding the nest and ready to learn how to fly. Some young birds get the hang of flying rather quickly and find safety up in the tree tops. But some only manage to glide somewhat awkwardly to the ground. I get to watch them hop through the yard trying to master the skill of flying as Mama and Daddy chirp and squawk encouragingly.
We find ourselves fretting over the baby robin’s safety as much as it’s parents. We, too, know the dangers of stray cats, hawks, and cars on the street.
We’ve been known to redirect those late bloomers toward safer spaces and cheer triumphantly when they finally soar up to the trees.
This year the Robin has much to teach us.
The Gift of the Robin is the lessons they offer through the life they live.
Be Persistent:
Even when the rain is icy and the north wind blows. Keep doing the work even when the cats are prowling and the hawks are circling and strange unexpected things scare the hell out of you. Year after year, they still come back the this nest next to the door. We have our own work to do. Whether that’s actual physical work or more internal emotional work and we can’t be distracted by all those life things that pop up; even when those things are scary and uncomfortable.
Do what needs to be done.
The nest needs to be prepped. Food needs to be found. Eggs need to be laid and hatched. Baby’s need to be fed and raised and taught the ways of the ancestors. We have our own list of necessary-for-survival things that we have to do as well. These are things that have to be done. We can’t not do them because life is weird and nothing feels normal. We can’t not do them because this virus is scary and the world is crazy right now.
Working together.
Mama and Daddy Robin each have their roles and responsibilities. They each do their part in this cycle. However, they have a common goal and neither of them ever give up. Now is a good time to remember our common goals, whether those are personal between you and your household or grander goals between you and the rest of the world. Redefine your personal role and responsibility if you have too but honor those and keep doing your part.
Be assertive.
This feisty Robin couple has no qualms about defending their territory; they chased away the wrens, burrow through the compost like it was their personal grocery store and yell at us humans for entering their sacred space. I’m not going to lie, I absolutely comply with their demands. I’ve adjusted my own routines to accommodate their needs. This is a good reminder to us that we, too, need to be assertive. We have the right and responsibility to define our boundaries and defend them fiercely.
Let go of what’s Lost.
Every year they loose at least one egg and one chick. Sometimes it’s an act of nature. Sometimes they, themselves toss it out of the nest. I don’t know if birds mourn these losses but I know they carry on. They keep doing what needs to be done. During this pandemic we, too, have lost much. Most of us have lost freedoms and livelihoods. Others have lost friends and loved ones. Either way the loss is real, one is not greater than the other and we each have the right and responsibility to grieve. But then we have to get on with the business of life.
Once the baby birds have learned to fly, the nest is abandoned and will sit empty until the following Spring. We’ll still share our yard with the Robin couple and their offspring. They will still forage our lawn for grubs and worms. They will scavenge the compost pile for discarded berries and they’ll perch on the garage roof or the Texas Lamppost but they’ll keep their distance and have no reason to squawk at us.
For 6 weeks out of the year we share our life with a Robin couple and our lives are richer for it.
Read more about my Village and the crazy people I love.
