robins in spring


(all pictures are my original photography, please do not use without asking, thank you.)

This Spring, outside of my family's kitchen window, two robins made a nest in the holly.

One day, these two robins had four eggs, and eventually, four little chicks.

I took a few pictures of the robins and their babies. The babies were the ugliest things I had ever seen, but I fell in love. I was hoping to take pictures throughout the next two weeks as they grew.

Today, a snake scaled the holly outside our kitchen window, killed Mama robin, and ate all four chicks.

My dad saw the entire thing, and even tried to chase the snake away with a broken golf club. My mom and sister almost cried when I gave them the news.

My mom said it was all "just really sad."

I would have to agree with her.



Anonymous said...

It's so strange how we identify with these little critters. Maybe it is because they struggle through their days with what appears to be very simple dignity. I think your pictures are beautiful and your (& your mother's) affection for them is very touching.

Nate Tyson said...

It is exactly that "simple dignity" that makes this whole thing so damned tough. After all, can I blame the snake for being a snake?

They were critters, but watching a family grow and then die is just an awful lot for a person to handle within two weeks.

Thanks for your kind words.

Anonymous said...

The robins began constructing their nest while your father was with Poppy as he was dying. I called to tell him about them as an affirmation of life and to encourage him during his darkest days. It seemed to me that they took great care in their building and I could not help but anthropomorphize them as I watched the red-breasted pair painstakingly set about their labors.
I watched them carefully, thinking about you and your sister, about how very much I love you both, hoping that your father and I had built as strong a nest for you two to have been raised. I hope that we did.
I remember the day the mama bird laid her eggs because she took her place in the nest and could not be moved. Do you remember how bitterly damp and cold it was last Thursday and through that weekend? It was unseasonably cold and windy with flooding throughout the area. Still she sat and tended her eggs and I wondered if I had protected you and A as well during the storms of your lives. I hope that I did.
When you came home I could tell the eggs had hatched because mama robin could be seen perched on the edge of the nest and the father guarded it as she took some time to herself. It was a joyful thing to share this time with this small family outside of our window and I am reminded now of a bronze garden plaque I gave to your grandfather when I first met him twenty-five years ago: You are closer to God in a garden than anywhere else on earth.
Thank you for taking such beautiful pictures, Nathaniel. I love you.