Our weekend has been for the birds. Really.
Some new neighbors — well, they’re only passing through, I’m sure — showed up in the cork tree outside the kitchen door. Four baby robins hatched a few days ago and are keeping their mom — and us — very busy.
We’ve been glued to the nest — at the expense of many household chores and actual conversation. Who knew how quickly time could fly when one is counting from one regurgitated worm to the next?
As you can see from this picture, it’s a tight squeeze for four siblings, and yet I’ve not heard “she’s touching me” or its variation, “he’s looking at me.” In fact, I don’t hear them at all, just see their little beaks pop up above the twigs, wide open.
Somehow mama robin knows. She swoops in straightaway with another tasty morsel, then rejoins the hunt.
I don’t know how long it will be before the little guys open their eyes and shed the fluff that precedes actual feathers, and I hope it will be a few days at least before they are ready to spread their wings.
Catherine doesn’t understand why I’m so fascinated by them.
I figure she will though … in about 30 years. 😉