On The Edge

The last week or so, we’ve been observing some robins in our yard. Two birds have been nesting, and we've been curious. One day last week, we took the kitchen step stool out to help us get high enough to get a peek at what occupied one of the nests. As we neared the tree, the mama robin nervously took flight and found safety in a nearby tree. As we climbed our way to peer in her nest, she flitted from branch to branch and kept a close watch on us. Inside the nest, we spied three lovely, shockingly blue robin eggs.

After our photo op, we quickly went back inside so the nervous mom could warm her baby eggs. After a few minutes, she returned to her nest and has been diligently sitting all week long. Every time we quietly check, we can see her red belly blanketing her babies and her tail feathers signaling attention, telling others that she is busy with important work.

We also checked out the other nest in our yard. We could not climb high enough to look in, but we could see a busy bird collecting worms and feeding three tiny triangles of beak. The mama busied herself feeding her babies and took no notice of the four observers watching her work so hard.

As we’ve watched these signs of spring, I can’t help wondering what the mama birds think. Do they worry when someone gets close enough to potentially cause harm to their babies? Do they look longingly at their eggs and wonder what it will be like to meet the babies that hatch out? Do they cherish each moment of their newborn babies’ days knowing that soon they will grow and leave the safety of a nice, snug nest?

The birds and the newness of the helpless babies being carefully cared for by their moms, has left me thinking about my little “birds”. The time has passed quickly. I remember waiting and looking forward to the day when my swollen belly would finally give me a baby (or two) to care for and love. I wonder sometimes if I got so busy gathering the worms that I forgot to take time to cherish the times that they were helpless and relied on me for their every need. They change so much, and it seems like just a spring has passed since I cared for them and waited for them to hatch. Now, it seems that I am watching them hatch all over again, as they become young ladies that love to learn and are growing into their own unique personalities.

I wonder if, as the robin feeds her babies, if she’s like me. Does she worry about the times she has to leave them to gather nourishment? About the time when she’ll stand at the edge of their safe home and teach them how to spread their wings? Has she taught them enough? Nourished them enough? Taught them to fly strong and soar as high as they can? Has she taught them all that they can be?

I stand on the edge of that spring where I am teaching my girls how to spread their wings. I cherish the times they are with me to practice, but each day they have more time that they flap their wings without me there at every wing beat. Some days I’m the mama robin in the neighboring tree. Watching. Waiting. Hoping they are safe. One day soon, we’ll stand at the edge of our safe nest, and I will have to let them go. I hope they soar. I hope they soar to the highest tree. And sometimes, when they are out on their own, I hope they let me soar with them.