The Winds of Change

The Winds of Change blew softly this morning in the garden and as a result, the baby robins left their nest, almost two weeks to the day of pecking their way through their little pale blue eggs and into the bright new world.  

I've enjoyed our morning, afternoon and evening visits. I've enjoyed whistling to their mama and papa to let them know that I am there to check on their babies and to let them know that they are taking care of them, beautifully.  I felt a little sad that I wasn't able to see them off, and their little nest looked almost forlorn without them all cuddled in.

Their mama was sitting atop the holly tree this afternoon, watching me.  I told her how thankful I was that she allowed me to spend these past few weeks with her and her babies, and how gracious she was to me, even after she got caught in the clothes line as I was putting out the sheets a few days ago.   

At the exact moment that I was pulling the line out, she landed on the line, close to the wheel, and got caught, flipping upside down. She lost a few feathers... there were at least three big ones that twirled  through the air, and a whole bunch of those soft white downy ones that just seemed to hang in the air and make it all seem like a bad dream.  She squawked like crazy until her husband came and flew in a frenzied circle around her, until finally, I was able to get her uncaught.  

My heart was beating as fast as her wings were and I thought for sure I had killed, or maimed, those poor babies mother.  I was praying as loud as I ever have until she finally was released and flapped herself, haphazardly, over to the pear tree.  I thought for sure she would give me a good tongue lashing... but she just looked at me quietly, then swooped down to her plum tree nest, settled herself around her babies and gently tilted her head to the side as if to say, "I know that you did not mean to do that, but really, you MUST be more careful in the future."  I felt like one of those characters in a Disney animated animal movie, you know, the dreaded PEOPLE who make the animals lives sheer torture. Remember what happened to Bambi's mother?  Remember Cruella Deville?  

A little wren was on the clothesline recently.  I stopped and watched her for a bit, then told her I really had to get on with the task at hand. I shoogled the line a bit, but she stayed on, enjoying the ride. I told her what happened to Mrs. Robin, shoogled again, and she very spritely took to the air.

I've prayed for those little ones, as they make their way in this world, and leave them with this song, paraphrased to fit the moment...

May you rock in the tree tops

all day long...

Rockin' and a boppin'

and singin' your song.

May all the little birdies

             on Jay Bird Street...

                      Love to hear you robins
                       go "tweet, tweet, tweet"!