Early in the morning of May 22, I saw a chick flapping its wings while it was standing beside the nest. I raised my camera and was about to take a picture, and the baby immediately hid in the nest, pretending to be asleep, very funny. But when I tried again, one of the adult birds flew back tweeting loudly, very disturbed. When I retreated, the adult bird quickly went to the baby bird and seemed to say:
"Don't be worried, don't be afraid, your parents are nearby. We are here."
About an hour later, a little bird came out of the nest and jumped forward, and I watched as the mother bird waited for it on the nearby grape trellis. The chick jumped in the direction of Mother Bird, and then suddenly flew to her. The baby then flew from the grape trellis to the roof of the garage with Mother Bird, stopped for a while, and they then flew higher and farther together.
Early in the morning on May 23, I saw the second bird leave the nest. It jumped out of the nest eagerly, flapping its wings. I immediately went outside, stood on a bench that I had prepared to take the best pictures, and I raised my camera pointing towards the birds. The mother bird may have thought that I was going to hurt the baby, and she rushed towards me quickly.
Her posture was threatening! But I still managed to snap a few pictures of the baby bird before it took off. Then the mother bird quickly fell to the bird's side, as if teaching the bird to flap its wings and fly upwards! “Fly my child!” The clever little bird, led by the mother bird, quickly flew away with her.
Now there are two little birds left in the nest. They tried flapping their wings on the edge of the nest, but they still were not ready to make the next move.
About an hour later, a third baby bird finally summoned the courage to say goodbye to the "cradle" and flew tentatively in a zigzag – still immature, but flying effectively enough. At this time, the Mother Bird looked on uneasily. She was unsettled to see me holding up my camera to take pictures, and swooped down at me many times, screaming loudly, as if she were going to attack me! This reminded me of a farmer’s hens who are desperate to protect their chicks in a chicken coop.
About an hour later, I was pleasantly surprised to find that a little sibling flew back. It stopped on the edge of the nest, looked at the last remaining little bird, then it jumped off and flew to a water barrel to take a sip of water, then flew away again. Was it coming back to teach the final chick the takeoff experience? Was it encouraging the younger bird to fly into a new life together?
The little bird who was left alone in the nest chirped a few times. She flapped her wings and tried to fly several times, and seemed to be practicing with great purpose.
"Be patient, little one, and when you're as strong as them, you can fly away too”, I found myself whispering to it.
I went out later in the afternoon, and by the time I came back, I saw that the bird nest was completely empty! The fourth little bird had now also flown away.
I like quiet nights, without the limitations of time and space. I fell into a sweet dreamland that night. Between half-dreams and half-wakefulness, I took my daughter's little hand and strolled along the tree-lined path, listening to the crisp birdsong in the forest. My daughter raised her little face and asked this and that for a while. We just walked, talked, walked... I opened the curtains and saw a bright sunrise on the horizon.
Postscript:
The story of the robins has not yet ended. I thought that this would be the end of the birthing season. I had also taken down the beautiful empty bird’s nest as a keepsake. Unexpectedly, thebird couple who sent away the first group of chicks staged a "husband and wife return home visit", but alas! The bird's nest was no longer there!
Were they confused? But it seemed they were not troubled. They began flying around showing great energy to rebuild their home. The desire of robin couples to "have a second child" is much stronger than that of humans.
This also seems to be the end of just being neighbors. Perhaps they imagine me to be a kind landlady who loves birds like they are her children! I would like to tell my readers that I will know what will happen next year, but it is impossible to guess with these busy birds.
换一换
