Independence Day: Baby Robins Depart the Nest

After a month’s vigil, I find it altogether fitting and proper that the baby robins outside my home window chose Independence Day to depart their nest. The event was riveting and emotional, and not just for the human observers.

The two surviving hatchlings had been developing at a rate fast enough to intrigue even the most impatient technospeedster. By day 12, it was readily apparent that the nest was too small to accommodate the baby birds, who had reached the stage of fledglings. Pin feathers had been picked and the coloring of the juveniles was beginning to resemble their parents in most places. When the youngsters stretched their wings, it was obvious that the larger world awaited them.

One perched on the edge of the nest. He did this with such intent, that there was no doubt his launch would be July 4. He hopped onto a nearby branch and surveyed the situation. Then he hopped back into the nest. It reminded me of some generations ago when one of my own babies had realized she was ready to turn over, stopped in mid-turn, and howled instead. Both little ones knew instinctively they had reached their next step, yet both hesitated, wanting to prolong the comfort and security of the known.

The bird then left and his sibling perched on the side of the nest looking after him. We located the pioneer, hopping amid the ground cover, not far from the shrub that housed the nest. The remaining sibling returned to the nest and opened his mouth. The father bird brought him some large creature I dare not try to name, and stuffed it down his throat. No longer was the kid eating regurgitated baby food – this was a solid sample of the delicacies he too could hunt. I interpreted this act as the farewell supper.

Next thing I knew, the second fledgling was on my window sill, and then, he was also gone.

Without fully developed tails, and still quite young, these fledglings would be sticking around for a little while. I later located one hanging onto a window shutter.

In the July heat, however, I sensed they might need a water supply. Whether or not it was silly and unnecessary, I placed a shallow dish of water on the ground not far from the nest. Guess empty nests make me sentimental.