Spring on Wings: A Celebration
When you think of spring, what pops up? Daffodils, crocus, cherry blossoms? Me too, but there is something else. Something equally joyful but insistent the way a flower is not. It is the chorus of robins that start in around 5:30 to 6:00 am, singing with such gay abandon that it is practically impossible to stay in bed. It revs me up. Sometimes this is great, sometimes not so much.
The early-bird song of the American Robin is often the first to tell us that spring is finally coming.
Though it is still dark and cold at that hour, spring has flipped a switch in their downy red breasts and they want to announce it to the world. But this celebrated symbol of spring has a mixed effect on my psyche. Yes, I’m thrilled by all that optimistic trilling in coloratura, but it also starts my heart thumping like crazy.
Quick, my body says: up and at ‘em, feather your nest, plant those seeds, till that ground, for Pete’s sake, get moving! Even though here in Portland, we have several months of waiting for dry and friable ground in order to work the soil. What I really need to do is calm down and pace myself. Maybe putter in the greenhouse.
I don’t know about you, but the pure raw energy of spring can work me into a frenzy. I guess it tweaks my desire for garden accomplishment into overdrive.
Yes, you garden overachievers, you know what I’m talking about.
I do love robins though and the proof is that Patrick and I accommodate and encourage them. These photographs were taken by an Audubon Society of Portland member and neighbor (thanks Char Corkran!) who happened by our yard and could not believe that a robin would build a nest inches from the front door.
Apparently our bird-friendly habitat, (we grow the American Beautyberry bush (Callicarpa Americana) and rows of Viburnum “Blue Muffin”, attracts lots of robins. I saw a dozen of them on the lawn just this morning. In two months, I’ll be competing with them for the juiciest of the blueberries.
But this nest at eye level next to the front door was a first. The female was not even deterred when I moved her nest to a nearby fuchsia basket in full view. We’ve lost dozens of songbird nests to crows, so this mommy robin must have calculated that our human presence was better than crows which wouldn’t come so close. The statistics for survival aren’t good: only 25% of baby birds will survive the first year.
So, our bird built in the middle of the hellebores a second time. Classy taste this robin; only the Helleborus Gold Collection would do. And if you were wondering, yes, we did let her have her second brood there too. Then, we really had to hose down the joint! (full disclosure: these photos were taken in the spring of 2012.)
The good news is that each one of those chicks fledged. I watched them leave the nest over several hours and swoop-dive into nearby Vine maples where mom continued to feed them. It was thrilling and an honor to be so close to the process.
Still, every spring, Patrick and I have the same problem: how much of our wraparound porch is people space and how much is bird haven? How soon before the other songbirds join in the morning euphony? How soon before they begin taking up residence in all the hanging baskets on the porch?
This post was written in honor of Donna Donabella’s site called Garden’s Eye View.
http://gardenseyeview.com/2013/03/01/seasonal-celebrations-spring-fever-2013/On March 1st, she challenged readers to write about what spring meant for them in her seasonal celebrations post for the spring equinox. If you have time, check out the site–it is wonderful!
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Next up on the blog: When your mind is not your friend.
Don’t miss it! No navel gazing I promise.
Thanks for this delightful celebration of spring. The photos of the fabulously intricate nest and baby birds are enchanting. Yes, the garden calls, saying get busy, this is the year to finally plant the climbing yellow bleeding heart — but it’s early yet, so I’ll just enjoy the robins for awhile. Cheep cheep.
You know it IS a tad early, I noticed it especially with the time change and in contrast to the 60 degree sunny day yesterday. I think I’ll nestle back in bed and let the early birds do their thing. So, there is such a thing as a yellow bleeding heart? Never seen one.
Lettuce seed packets are spread out on the kitchen counter as I write this. They have been calling to me for a few weeks now, waiting patiently with little seed hearts beating hopefully for a chance to finally wrap themselves in warm earth. The inertia of winter seems to be passing and the unseasonably warm, sunny weather has done the trick. Off I go to play in the garden. Thanks for the added motivation.
Margaret, I wish I could come play in YOUR California garden. This is the time of year I find toughest in the Pacific Northwest, our long cool springs. This one seems to be an exception though. I even saw dahlias peeking up–that is a first for early March. I like what you said about ‘little seed hearts.’ -:)
Fabulous Susie…I have the same thoughts and similar experiences with our robins…they build in the dwarf gnarly willows just off the porch. I agree their song says spring is really here…robins are not showing themselves yet here.
Donna, what is a dwarf gnarly willow? (Guess I’ll just have to google it) but if you ever spot a nest in one, I’d love to see. In the meantime, I just like saying dwarf gnarly willow over and over–sounds like Hobbit habitat. -:)
You can see them in Journal posts where I show my front yards…I have pictures of robin nests in those trees.
Ah yes, I can see what you are talking about. Thanks Donna!
So glad to hear that they all fledged. I see so many robins this spring, and they make me smile as they hop around here and there. This was a fine post that made me appreciate them even more.
Thank you….yes, it is always a big deal when I can watch the whole process from nest building to the fledging. Feels like such an honor doesn’t it? Some of the young birds were so hesitant, some just super ready to go–like every new creature meeting up with the world I guess. As an aside, we had a bobcat in our front yard looking for critters the following week and I kept my fingers crossed that everybody was up and flying by then. It’s one thing to have a house cat prowling, another to see a bobcat. Yikes.
Waiting for Spring…..and Godot
I enjoyed just catching your Spring Blog. Here on Long Island
the first day of the season and we have….snow…Last winter we
took off- warm all the way through- so I guess this is payback time.
I’ve been dealing with constant snow since November. Living in Syracuse
and central New Hampshire didn’t help.
So…..I try to cope while I wait. In New Hampshire my mountain-top (well
it felt like it) home had steady snow for so long I was unable to drive to
and fro ( snow tires: didn’t those become extinct?). So…I skied to my heart’s
content. Yesterday I had my traditional Spring outdoor breakfast– all right in
winter coat and gloves I took off to grab the toast- and went hiking. I haven’t heard or seen any robins but I’ve decided to celebrate Spring… with or without the weather..
John
John, hi! Waiting for Spring and Godot….of course you are! I have been in touch with a number of east coast friends who are all wondering the same thing: is this payback time? Especially since last spring was the warmest on record I believe. In any case, I think we can safely call it global weirding. Glad you are getting in some good skiing and hiking. I’ve never known you to let a little weather stop you. Thank you so much for stopping by. Susie