By KAREN MADORIN
I’ve mentioned we encourage birds to share our yard. Several American Robin pairs have accepted our invitation and raised multiple broods this summer. I met Grumpy Pot, one of the newest fledglings, the other morning between a pumpkin and tomato vine. While the disoriented little guy pretended to be invisible, I raced to the house for my camera.
Once outside, I knelt to his level and zeroed in for a picture. It clearly was not happy to get launched from a nest where parents delivered regular hot meals and then have some lady, even if she planted the garden that sort of hid it, point a lens in his face and say, “Smile!” In fact, if I had to compare his demeanor to someone most of us have heard of, I’d say he looked a lot like a stern Winston Churchill telling the free world, “Never, Never, Give Up!”
Once we’d met, I needed to learn more about this new neighbor. I abandoned The Attitude to hunt bugs in my garden as its parents flitted from clothesline to tree branch, singing encouragement. I headed inside to google robins. At the click of a button, I promptly discovered I could appropriately call the little saucy one a turd as its bird family is Turdidae and its genus is Turdus.
This little song bird is one of — if not — the most common birds in North America. According to Partners in Flight Database, 370,000,000 robins call this continent home. More robins claim its real estate and air space than do huge numbers of redwing blackbirds, finches, or mourning doves. Proportionally, our backyard census confirms these statistics. Robins may be common, butthey are engaging as all get out to watch as they build nests, search for food, and come to water for drinks and splashathons.
Watching robins construct nests exhausts me even though they do the work! They busily gather twigs, coarse grasses, feathers, and bits of paper for their nurseries. We devoted a morning to watching a pair assemble a nest in less than half a day in the branches hanging over our patio, only feet above our heads. Obviously, this species doesn’t mind living close to humans. We’ve watched robins, upon completing nests, visit our just-watered garden to gather mud to daub into the nest bowls. In short time, mom lays 3 to 5 blue eggs and so begins the next generation.
She incubates the eggs for two weeks and then nurtures her hatchlings with masticated worms, insects, and berries she and her mate forage til offspring fledge after another two weeks. Upon leaving their nest, it takes additional two weeks before youngsters fly reliably. That’s where the Grumpy Pot in my garden comes in. That little one is strengthening its wings and learning to find its own food.
This particular fledgling is lucky. We’ve watched its parents hunt food like pros all summer. They wander the yard and garden, cocking heads to listen for insects and worms or perhaps they feel vibrations. Anyway, in no time, that beak stabs repeatedly at the ground until, Eureka, up comes fresh meat. We make finding water easy with our always full bird baths. I’m sure mom and dad will provide bathing instructions that detail how to splash enough to make humans laugh.
Based on my observations, raising babies is endless labor for adult robins. The bad news is that some statistics say only a quarter of these offspring hatched live to maturity. That explains naked bird bodies I find littering the yard. For those that reach adulthood, most live an average of two years. I hope Grumpy Pot beats these statistics and returns to raise its own young next summer. I know we’ll enjoy seeing it and hearing its song as it raises its own young.
Karen is a retired teacher, writer, photographer, outdoors lover, and sixth-generation Kansan. After a time away, she’s glad to be home.