Dashed Hopes

I considered not writing about this. People like cheerful reports about how nature sorts everything out. They like to think that every sparrow is looked after and that no life is lost in vain. But here in my untended plot of land, unexpected, premature and even senseless death is a normal part of life, and I think that even Bow knows about it. Remember what he said about Niles the kitten?

http://notesfromthepens.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-way-of-all-things.html

Last year I was able to follow developments in three different robins' nests. This year I was surprised at first that I was not seeing any, when I finally noticed one by the fence-line, snug in a low lying cypress bush.

I spotted the firs robin's nest on April 13, 201 

There were already three perfect little blue eggs in the nest. It was very far from the house, and so there was no way I could keep watch over it as I had the nest in the rosebush in front of my front door last year.  But I was looking forward to seeing the three eggs hatch.

I spotted the second robin's nest in a rosebush facing the public road. The mother robin scolded me and tried to lure me away from her nest. There were three blue eggs, streaked with a little bit of white snug in the nest.

I spotted the second robin's nest on April 18, 2017

The third nest I spotted this season wasn't even a robin's. It belonged to a mourning dove who flew away noisily every time I approached. It was April 19, the anniversary of the Mt. Carmel Massacre, and I was preoccupied, but not so much so that I did not wonder about it.

I did not know what kind of egg it was until a friend of a friend on Facebook identified it for me. I was really looking forward to seeing how a mourning doves differ from robins in their development.

By April 23, I noticed that two of the eggs in the first robin's nest had hatched.

By the 24th of April, I spotted a second egg in the mourning dove nest. The lighting was such that one of the eggs seemed pinkish, while the other looked bluish. This sparked a discussion among my friends as to whether one of the eggs did not belong in the egg. Could that bluish egg be a starlings?

By the end of that day, the first egg in the mourning dove nest had already hatched, and the other egg went from looking blue to being white again. It had probably been just a trick of the light and both eggs were "legitimate."

The mourning dove hatchling seemed healthy, and I was hopeful that eventually the other egg would hatch, revealing a matching sibling.

At the time when the mourning dove baby hatched, the baby robins in the first robin's nest looked like this.

Then the next day, April 25, the first egg in the second robin's nest by the road hatched.

That was the best it ever got. At that point, for all three nests, there were four hatchlings and four unhatched eggs. But the weather started to change, and it began to rain every day almost all day long. The nest time I went to check all three nests, the second robin's nest was empty. Completely empty.

.There was no sign of a struggle. Not a feather or a cracked egg. But I knew it was too early for anything but a bad ending to explain the total absence of hatchlings and eggs. On that day, the first robin's nest still contained two babies and the third egg had not hatched.

In the mourning dove nest, there was still one hatchling and one egg.

The next day, when I could get away to look, the mourning dove nest was completely bare, all except for one stray white feather.

In the first robin's nest, the two babies looked like this that day.

It continued to rain and rain and rain. Major parts of our state became flooded. Roads were closed and bridges crumbled and teenagers were swept away to their deaths in their cars. On April 29 I ventured out in the rain and the thunder to look at the surviving robins in the nest. They seemed to be doing well, despite it all.

Yesterday, May 1st, which was an unusually cold day, when I ventured forth to check on the robins, all I found was a bare, clean, empty  nest.

Of eight potential new lives, all were snuffed out. 

Standing Up to Thunder

This morning it was nice out, and Bow went outside several times. But right in the middle of lunch, before Bow even got to the bananas, it suddenly grew dark, and there was rain outside and thunder.

I asked Bow what else he wanted to eat, but Bow indicated by pointing at the door that he needed a break from lunch so he could take care of the problems we were having with the weather.

Bow protested the rain and the thunder by displaying, vocalizing and making a lot of noise by rattling a chained lock. He also threw himself against the glass a couple of times and struck it with his hand, but that hurt, so he decided not to do it again.

However, when the rain did not let up despite all Bow's hard work, he asked to eat his two remaining bananas.

Now the thunder has died down  and the rain has let up a little. It is probably a delayed reaction to Bow's earlier protest. Bow is content. He can relax now. Until the next thunder burst, anyway.

Distant Thunder

The weather can't seem to decide what to do. One moment all is calm and the sun is shining, and the next, distant thunder threatens us with a storm, which may or may not ever materialize. Bow, always quite sensitive to nature's mixed signals, is not sure what to do, either.

Today is Sword's birthday, but we celebrated it on the 17th, as that was a Wednesday. Today, and for the next ten days or more, Lawrence will be on vacation with his family out of state. So today was an ordinary day for us, except that we had banana cake for breakfast.

I went for a walk after lunch with Brownie, and I noticed that the wind had blown some of the ripening pears off the trees before their time.

I gathered as many of the fallen pears as I could, in the hopes they will still ripen at home.

Luckily, there are still many more pears left on the tree.

In the late afternoon, Bow and I went out. While in the outer pens, we heard some distant thunder. It would start, then stop, with no clear resolution. Bow was confused as to what he should do about it. Should he ignore it, protest against it, ask to go back inside, or just take it lying down?

Eventually we did go back in. There is still thunder out there, but now it is closer. No rain yet, though.

Reply to the Thunder

It has been raining a lot lately. It can go on this way for several days, then a little sunshine, then more rain again. Bow does not like the rainy days. The rain depresses him. The sky stays dark long after the sun would  normally be out, and there's no use going outside, because he hates to get wet.

As much as he does not like the rain, Bow has become resigned to it. Often he just sits and mopes. When he hears thunder in the distance, he does not always become agitated or feel the need to display at it. However, he does feel that at least a short reply to the thunder is in order. After all, we can't let the thunder get the last word!

Registering a Complaint Against the Weather

Bow is not shy about sharing his feelings. If he does not like something, he will let you know. This afternoon it rained and hailed and thundered, and Bow was not pleased. He does not let this kind of opportunity to register a protest against nature pass him by. After protesting for a while, he usually calms down and becomes more philosophical.