High up on a shelf in our shed, perched right on the very end, carefully crafted to hide snugly behind a box of plant food, is a beautiful robins’ nest. This robins’ nest now contains four dead baby robins and their parents are nowhere to be seen.
I am so sad.
I didn’t see the robins yesterday, and thought they had just gone for a longer flight, but when there was still no sign of them today I thought I would take a look at the nest. I poked it with a straw at first, to see if the chicks were there, but there was no sound or movement. I lifted the nest down and there inside were four tiny robins curled around each other. All beaks and tightly closed eyes and a bare whisper of soft grey feathers. No sign of life.
If a cat or other animal got the parents there is no sign of any disturbance or feathers in the shed or garden at all. Once the eggs hatched the robins hardly left the garden. So where did they go? Does this happen often? Did they just abandon their offspring? I suppose I’ll never know. I do miss that little robin with the queer beak, he’s kept me company in the garden for weeks now. I notice his absence sorely.
I know, this is nature, and this is how it works out sometimes, but knowing that doesn’t make it any easier, does it.