Each season is a welcomed change in Michigan, especially spring. It brings color back to the landscape after a long, dreary winter. Grass grows, flowers bloom, birds return, and hope is renewed. But, like any other season, it can also be bittersweet. I had realized this in the past, however over the weekend it was brought to my attention when I awoke to a raided blue bird box right outside my kitchen window.
For years I have observed when the robins, bluebirds, tree swallows, or even ducks, take up residence in my yard. For me, it's a thrill to see nature at work up close and personal. Each bird and their partner have their own unique way of nesting, protecting their homestead, and raising their young. Each year I feel like a foster mother. From the moment I see the initial signs of a bird scoping out the real estate market, to the clumps of grass and mud molded into a nest, to the first sight of the newborns. I get emotionally attached and feel protective.
I know that survival of the fittest is how the natural world is supposed to work, and I have gotten better, but it still breaks my heart to see a mother bird return to her empty nest in the wake of a home invasion.
When I looked out my window on Saturday morning, I noticed right away that something was askew with the blue bird box. Nesting material was pulled out through the entrance, and neither parent was nowhere to be seen. I went outside to look around and found more nesting material on the ground, but no sign of baby birds. I gently tapped on the box to be sure the mother wasn't inside and then slowly opened the door. Sure enough, the nest was in disarray and the eggs were gone, however, there was one baby remaining in the box and he was still alive. I did my best to return the nest to its original state and then placed the baby back into it and closed the box, hoping the parents would return. Later on they did, and they even went inside. I thought that maybe they would be able to continue caring for this one, but it was not meant to be.
There have been several occasions where the nesting process has been successful, and when I see the babies leave the nest on their own, albeit in little bits and spurts, I feel that something wonderful, no matter how natural and common, has been accomplished.
Later on over the weekend, I realized that the young birds leaving the nest this season will have more meaning to me than ever. Alex will be turning 18 within a couple of weeks, high school graduation is near, and changes are on the horizon. Prom was this weekend and it hit me that life, as we know it now, is coming to an end. Not that that's a bad thing, it's just different and will take some adjustment.
I'm excited, proud, and sad all at the same time. I'm excited that he will be experiencing new challenges in his life, proud that he has grown into such a caring and responsible man, and sad that he's moving on, even though that's what we want for him. Although, I can honestly say I understand that changes in life happen for a reason and that reason is because it is time for them to happen. He is ready. I may not feel ready, but I'm getting there because I know it's what I must do.
Perhaps because the weather has been so cold and lousy is the reason I didn't even realize that the end of May is upon us, which means Memorial Day weekend is arriving, which means that Alex's birthday is near as well as the end of school. I do have a calendar and I do know how to read it, but for some reason it just hasn't registered. I'm hoping that a warm up this week will jump start me into reality. Then, I can start preparing for the second brood the birds will produce and raise in June.
Speaking of second broods, Cameron is having mixed emotions about Alex's departure for college as well. He's excited that he will be able to move in to Alex's room with his own attached bathroom, however, he realizes that he will become the sole focus of our attention come September. He's not sure it's worth the trade off. I, however, am. I know that once I get past the initial changes, life will be good again.
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