Robin Motherhood

Robins and wrens are God's chickens and hens--E. M Wright

Now I let this robin build this nest just outside our back door because I enjoy bird-watching. Besides, I'm one of those environmentalist types that believes in letting nature thrive. That's not him nor his nest in the picture here, but it bears a resemblance.

But this particular mother robin would be a good candidate for Oprah if she ever wanted to have an episode entitled, "Mothers who will not stay at home." I peek out the patio door. She's gone. I walk out into the garage; she leaves. We let the dog out and the robin flies the coop.

And, yes, she has babies. One morning I looked out towards the nest and I saw a tiny head stretching over the side of the nest, its elongated neck not much wider than a string of vermicelli. Mother? Gone.

If it weren't for Wendy and I, there might not be baby robins at all. Once I saw a tree sparrow standing over the nest when there were just three eggs there. The sparrow surveyed the empty nest, looking to one side, then the other as if thinking, "This will make a fine home but how do I get rid of these eggs?"

I came outside and shooed the sparrow away. Another time Wendy chased away a starling that was perched aboard the porch beam almost beak to beak with Mrs. Robin. The robin took flight also.

So these baby robins will be lucky to see adulthood. Now some of you, especially the women, might be thinking to yourselves, "But what of MISTER robin. Where is he?" Well, we haven't seen him at all. I say, no doubt he's working late, collecting extra worms for the family.

My wife would likely reply, "He probably has a blog."