Hedge World
This summer, we had a family of robins make their home in our backyard and I have greatly enjoyed watching the parent birds and their fledglings. An immense hedgerow — once 15-18 feet tall, all around — separates our home from the street and our next door neighbors on either side and from our new neighbors along the back. Hedgerows are great for housing urban wildlife and so our backyard is quite popular with critters. The trunks of the laurels which form the hedge are on our new neighbors’ property, so they were within their right to top it to about 10 feet, an act that has changed the look of our backyard significantly - not entirely a bad or good thing. After the landscapers had come and gone, Mr. Slakethirst and I found what seems to a robin’s nest on our back porch. The landscapers must have revealed it during their trimming. I hope the robins no longer needed it! I’m pretty sure they don’t — I have seen their fledgeling hopping and fluttering around and he seems to have no interest in it now. Still, the nest is a nifty thing which makes me wonder about the birds that built it and how they went about it. It makes me wonder about instinct vs. intelligence. I feel lucky to get a glimpse into their domestic world.
September 28th, 2005 at 10:58 am
I have formed quite a connection to our backyard robins. I have delighted in their daily rituals — every morning, for example, the prosperous looking father robin would hold court on a wire that stretches across the backyard. Each morning I would look for him out the bathroom window while brushing my teeth and he was there, almost always— so that I would worry if he was not. After one of their young passed away, I was concerned that the robins would give up on us and leave. A neighbor cat pawed at one of the fledglings who was hopping about on the ground, testing his stubby wings. The fledgling was harmed, but not terribly (I thought). He had a spot of blood on his head and his eye was scratched. I consulted with the Audobon Society and was told that the best thing to do was to put him back in his nest and then move away. It is an old wives’ tale that birds will avoid their children if they have the scent of people on them. They will, however, stay away as long as a human being hovers around. So, I returned him to the nest. He looked a little wobbly, but seemed intent on perching on the edge. I left him and was torn up worrying about the little fella, forcing myself to stay away. I checked in on him in the morning to find the nest empty. Further searching revealed the fledgling had fallen out of the nest and expired on the ground. I didn’t see robins around for a couple of days afterward and was convinced that they no longer felt our home was safe. To my relief, however, they showed up again a few days later with another fledgeling who fared much better.