Robins

The 4:30 p.m. lesson has ended. Now the juvenile robin sits quietly in the sunlit lower branches of the catalpa tree waiting for its next instruction. Every so often it sharpens its beak on the limb beneath it.

Earlier, on the grass outside my bedroom window, the young robin stood observing its father. The older robin cocked its head to the side listening and then jabbed at the damp grass to pull out a fat worm. The younger robin squawked expectantly, until its father broke the worm up into smaller pieces that it could place in its offspring’s gaping mouth.

A quick snap. I didn't want to disturb her.

Directly across from the catalpa, a female robin has chosen the downspout against our house to construct a beautiful nest for her three cyan coloured eggs. For several mornings, she gathered and arranged twigs, mud and grasses—using her breast to firmly press these bits and pieces down. Amazing! She knows that you need the correct ratio of wet/dry materials to build a proper nest. I noticed that she has even woven in a pretty piece of baby blue plastic. Although she is more exposed than if she had nested in a tree, I think she has chosen wisely. It was quite blustery before dawn this morning and her nest weathered it well.

Sometimes I wonder what I’m doing here in the suburbs. But then I remember that like the robin who built her fine nest beneath the eaves, I also chose this house. Where the yard is green and peaceful, the leaves on the tall trees tremble, and the peonies and lilacs smell sweet in the spring. This house made of brick where I felt at home and safe enough to bring my own child into this world.

Letters for Siba

Troy Dean from Red Light Radio created this beautiful and poignant mix for his partner Siba who passed away recently. A reminder to cherish the ones we love because we never know how long we will have with them. Everything is constantly changing and nothing lasts forever.

I witnessed the death of a grackle last week. It was being chased by a robin when they collided with the glass railing of my neighbour’s deck (a truly senseless design, if you ask me). They both crashed to the ground and rolled painfully on their backs. Their beaks opening and closing silently. The grackle died relatively swiftly, but the robin lived. We put it into a box with air holes punched in it and a tea towel on top. It rested quietly in my daughter’s room for the night. Early the next morning, it flew out of the box so we opened the back door and let it leave on its own. I hope it’s OK. This incident has left me shaken. What frightens me about death (loss) is how swiftly it can happen and how the world keeps turning, as though nothing tragic has occurred. Sensitive people are left to navigate through dark waters on their own.

I don’t know who Troy Dean is personally, nevertheless I feel an affinity to his song selections. I’m sorry for his painful loss, but I’m grateful that he shared this deeply personal and romantic mix with his listeners.

If Only...

Just Past Two

Black Birds Migrating, Lake Ridge Road

From the side of the road I witness the graceful and exacting movement of the flock. Cars rush past oblivious to this awesome dance. There’s spaciousness in my chest and an intense feeling of gratitude overwhelms me. I don’t want them to leave! But they do and I must go, as well. I have someone special waiting for me to pick her up at 3:05.

Bookstore/Café Yay!

"Tribute" by Linda Johns, acrylic on paper

After returning a movie, I let Hope lead the way home on our bike ride yesterday. Not surprisingly, we ended up at her favourite used bookstore/café. We had rainbow rooibos tea and both of us found a book that we wanted to take home with us.

Finding books in this manner gives me a lot of pleasure. The fact that Hope loves reading as much as I do makes me exceedingly happy. The book I found is called Sharing a Robin’s Life. What an odd and fascinating book! It’s about a woman in Nova Scotia who has a most unusual relationship with a robin that lives with her in her woodland home.

“Tribute” is a painting by the author, Linda Johns (it is included as the frontispiece of the book). Enchanting work! There’s a short Life Network bio on Linda’s astonishing and eccentric life on YouTube, as well.

Oh! Hope’s treasured find was a Peanuts book. It’s a 1966 paperback edition in good condition. The original price was 40 cents! It was marked $3.95, but I asked for a discount and only ended up paying $2.00. Sharing a Robin’s Life was marked for $1.50, which is a steal in my opinion. Only $3.50 for two wonderful books! You can’t beat that.

I Am

“I am not my thoughts, emotions, 
sense perceptions, and experiences. 
I am not the content of my life. I am Life. 
I am the space in which all things happen. 
I am consciousness. I am the Now. I Am.”

~ Eckhart Tolle

Wild Geese

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, 

are heading home again. 

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, 

the world offers itself to your imagination, 

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting — 

over and over announcing your place 

in the family of things. 

—Mary Oliver

Tender-hearted

Feeling all tender-hearted for this cedar waxwing we discovered trembling in some bushes yesterday afternoon. It flew into a glass window at my daughter’s school while playing chase with another waxwing (that regretfully didn’t make it). When we found this little guy, it couldn’t fly or even hop so we brought it home and kept it for the night.

We released the bird this morning and it flew into our burning bush to eat a few berries before flying off. So precious!

Not in Vain

Photo: Tina Breen

                                                                           

If I can stop one heart from breaking,

I shall not live in vain:

If I can ease one life the aching,

Or cool one pain,

Or help one fainting robin

Unto his nest again,

I shall not live in vain.

~ Emily Dickinson

Several years ago, we found a robin’s egg in our vegetable garden and to our surprise (dismay) discovered a tiny beak slowly sawing away at its beautiful blue/green shell. After countless phone calls and hours of searching for a nest to return the egg to, we found an organization that was willing to take this poor creature in. Wing & a Prayer was an organization run by Janice and Michael Enright in Bracebridge, Ontario. At any given time, the Enrights cared for hundreds of birds. These birds, that would have otherwise perished, were lovingly nurtured and eventually released back into the wild. (Regrettably, I cannot find their organization online anymore.) Just to give you an indication of their efforts though, for several weeks a robin hatchling requires nourishment every 15 minutes during daylight hours!

We never knew the fate of our little robin. I like to imagine though that perhaps one of the robins that visits us each spring is related to the one we saved. The story warms me too, thinking of my husband making the urgent 140 km trip to Bracebridge in the hopes of saving one precious bird.