I see you, Momma Bird. You flit across the yard with a blade of dried grass in your beak. The first nest you made still lays in a heap on the patio. Perhaps a wind gust swept it off the beam? The winds in that recent cold snap were brutal. I admire your tenacity. Not even Mother Nature’s mood swings could hamper your determination. Instead of giving up, you started over in the same spot. The cover of the metal roof must have come in handy. Good thinking, to decide to build there with that bit of protection from the elements and the critters.
That day with the endless rain, I peeked out the window to see you hopping from branch to grass. It must have been difficult to find any building materials that weren’t soggy. Do you build at night? How did you get that done so fast? When do you rest?
I see you, Momma Bird. I’ve been that kind of tired.
When the sun finally came out after those grey days of rain, I sat on the patio with coffee, making sure my lawn chair wasn’t too close to your new home. I was bundled in a fleece jacket and socks, with a blanket over my lap. How do you stay warm? Or is that why you move so fast? I felt a bit guilty for sitting and sipping coffee instead of working, like you.
You’ve been so patient with us intruding into your space. We’ve tried to remember to keep a distance. The taller one is a bit louder. Sorry about that. His voice fills the backyard, but he doesn’t mean you any harm. He did remember to move his chair into the grass.
I watch you watching us. You keep an eye on us. I see that you are torn between protecting your nest and keeping yourself out of harms way. Your instincts tell you to keep your distance. Your instincts tell you not to trust us, but your obligations need to be fulfilled.
I see you, Momma Bird. Many times my instincts have been louder than my plans. Unlike you, though, I often refused to listen to my instincts.
The one with the long hair was the first to notice your baby. She’s the quietest of the three of us, and she tends to be a bit more observant. She tiptoed around your nest and came into the house to tell me of the new arrival. When did that happen? We should have showered you with gifts! Congratulations! Nice work, Momma Bird. Your baby is adorable. She looks just like you!
Now you are consumed with a new kind of busy. Does that baby eat all day long? (I know how that feels, too!) I hear the little one has found her voice. I’m impressed that you can hear her above the voices of all the other birds in the yard. I have heard how excited she gets in anticipation of a feeding.
Yesterday, I saw her head poke up high enough above the nest so that she could stretch her wings. She’s getting so strong. You are feeding her well! Her head was up for quite a spell. She’s very insistent about getting those worms. You are keeping up as best you can. Her little beak is always open and ready to receive. (Sounds like a human I know.) I saw when you hopped over into the garden. I had the sprinkler going and that must have made it easier for you to get the worms. Look at you! You are hard at work, sopping wet and keeping that baby alive and healthy! I’m so proud of you, Momma!
I’m waiting for the temperature to get closer to 60 before heading out with my coffee this morning. I’ll tiptoe. I promise. You can trust us, Momma. There is room for all of us in this backyard. We want your baby to thrive as much as you do.
But Momma, try to enjoy this time. I know it often feels like you are too busy or too tired to stop and appreciate it all, but this time is fleeting.
They do grow up so fast.
Best wishes to all those with graduating baby birds. Job well done!