Mama Bird

Mama Bird

Mama bird and I have a thing going. She has a nest of baby birds in the rafters of our garage. She hangs out in a near-by tree and watches over them. I come out to see how they are doing every morning, often with my camera. Mama bird chirps at me and tells me to leave them alone!  Some days she comes down on the ground and skirts around quite near me, chattering away. I talk to her and she answers. we are having a conversation! If I move too quickly, she flies away.

Mama bird and I have a lot in common. I am a Mama too. And even though my sons are grown now, I feel myself watching over them and wanting to keep all danger at bay. Mama bird and I are both “worriers.” It is a natural kind of worrying that comes with having offspring and caring about them. I love that Robin who is such a vigilant Mama. Now, I assume the bird that chirps at me is the Mama. For all I know, it could be the Papa. Papa robins care for and feed their young too.

I worry with Mama/Papa bird about the fledglings. There are cats around that could pick them off. They could fall from the nest. I want to protect them along with her. I notice today that one of them is standing up tall. Before they were heads peeking out of the nest with open mouths. Obviously, they have been fed and cared for well. I hope that they will be strong enough to fly away and come back to visit next year with babes of their own.

I have decided that Robins are my birds. My mother’s birds were Cardinals. My friend Wilma’s bird was bright yellow and sang a melodious and bright song from my sister’s tree when Wilma died. It was an “all is well” song.

Even before the baby birds in our rafters, I paid attention to robins. They would come at the end of winter, signaling spring. I could identify them with their red breasts. And I would remember a childhood song I used to sing and play on the piano. “Sing robin from your woodland tree, Sing robin sing a song for me. I love your merry melody. Sing, robin, sing your song.”

Yesterday I made a last check to be sure the nest was empty. It was. And then Mama/Papa bird came and stood right in front of me. This time, not as a warning to be careful but to say, “They are fine. All is well.”

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