Robin's nest

This is the robin nest from under our deck. I took it down after the second brood successfully fledged and the family moved out into the wild. 

The Deck Robins

We got a new deck last fall and the robins have once again made a nest under it this spring. We like to sit out on there in the evenings but the incessant barking from mom and dad robin make the experience less than enjoyable. How they think to nest there with all the activity of us and the dog is beyond me.

In years past the robins haven't been successful in this location. Last year Dallas killed the babies that fledged, and I'm not even sure if past nests have even seen anything hatched. So this year when I noticed the nest my heart sank. 

But those parents kept at it. We were out playing in the kiddie pool when a little black squirrel got chased out from under the deck right next to us, froze when he saw us, then darted back under the deck only to be dive-bombed again. The poor thing was then chased all across the yard and up the oak tree. As for Dallas, simply minding her own business too close to that nest has warranted an attack from mom and dad robin. 

So I carefully checked the nest and I saw this, around mid-June (a month later than in years past, most likely due to the snowy spring and cool temps earlier this summer). Two babies!

Last week I didn't see much activity in the nest, and it was empty, so I was hoping they had fledged safely. Yesterday I heard baby robins in the backyard and found this:

The two babies waiting for a meal.

One baby with its mouth ready for a worm

Now I hear those two babies every day, all over the yard. Hopefully they will find a quieter spot to nest next year! 

Partial Albino?

It's a rainy fall day and our yard is busy with birds. I noticed a robin with some white feathers on him, and I think he might be a partial albino...

Silhouette

Happy Birthday to Me!

What a beautiful day! A few years ago on my grandpa's birthday I saw a flock of cedar waxwings, and now today on my birthday here they are again, like Grandpa Lambert was sending his good wishes to me.

And even an ordinary sparrow can look sweet on a day like today. 

Other birthday callers include chickadees, a goldfinch, a woodpecker, robins, a female cardinal, and a bluejay calling in the distance. 

Room for Rent

Unfortunately the robins who lived under our deck have moved out. They didn't like their noisy neighbors, I guess.

Lower Deck Inhabitants

The closest I could get to this robin's nest without being dive-bombed by a pair of protective parents was about 10 feet. These two built their nest underneath our deck, directly below our patio table. All you can see of the nest from this photo is a long wisp of something hanging from it.

While I did save myself a pecking on the head, a nervous robin swooped and fluttered above me before landing in the yard, a severe look of warning in his eyes. I apologized and excused myself quickly.

Cowbirds at it again!

Just like last year, the cowbirds are after the robins again.

A Robin's Evening Song

Duluth Robins

Courtesy of my Dad:

I've never seen so many robins in my life, even in a season. They're out front under the crabapple tree. Some are up on the branches knocking the dried crabapples down, and the others are enjoying the works of the others. Out back, it's similar but a better variety of birds, mostly ground feeders. So I've been throwing out a cup of seeds every hour or so. Fun to watch, for sure. I'm used to seeing robins on warmer, moist days in spring, not with a snow cover. These hardy souls were definitely on the hunt for nutrition after almost two days of strong winds.

Spring!

The robins have been out in full force today and there is not an inch of soundscape not crammed with their song. This must mean spring is around the corner.

Flying Drunk

While watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade at my mom and dad's house we were startled by a loud bang against the big front window. Whatever it was had hit with such force we thought maybe someone had instigated a snowball fight with a misfire on the house.

There on the ground below the window was a robin who had flown too fast and smacked into the reflection. He had landed on his back on the sidewalk below and panted in his shocked state for several minutes. We were pretty sure he was "flying towards the light" but a few minutes later he began moving his head around like he was trying to figure out what the heck just happened. All of us watching were relieved when he managed to flop onto his feet, and he even allowed my dad to pick him up and place him on the planter in front of the house, out of the way any hungry neighborhood cats.

The poor little guy sat there looking pathetic as he watched his robin buddies buzz around the crabapple tree eating its fermented fruits. That's my theory anyway- that the berries that never fell from the tree have become an intoxicating treat. Maybe that's why this guy lost control as he left the Crabapple Bar. He eventually flew away, a little worse for wear.

Nature's Alarm Clock

Earlier this spring we took advantage of the warming weather to air out the house by leaving the windows open all day and overnight. It felt so good to get fresh air blowing through the house. Even Tokyo's spring fever starts when she can sniff at the open patio door. With that luxury of fresh air comes what some may consider a downside: early morning bird calls.

I will admit that some people, my dad for instance, find a sort of peace in the early dawn light listening to birdsong with a cup of coffee on the back patio. Others, like me, prefer to sleep until the alarm clock has gone off at least a couple times. For several weeks it had been my habit to peacefully fall asleep to a fresh spring breeze, then wake up at 4AM to shut the bedroom window when what began as sweet birdsong became like a crowded diner during the lunch rush, then hope to squeeze in a couple more hours of sleep before the beeping reality on my nightstand ordered me up and at 'em.

In the spring and early summer, the robins provided my 4AM wake-up call. It usually began with one robin sending out what sounds like a maniacal laugh of "tuh tuh tuh tuh tuh!" Then the rest of the robins within earshot would start their "cheerup cheerio cheerup." It's actually quite charming, but I still had to shut the window.

Lately I've noticed the robins are quiet and it's the cardinals sending out their pre-dawn chirps. On nights cool enough to leave the air conditioner off, mornings usually begin with one cardinal starting its day with a friendly "purdy purdy purdy," which they sing as many as 12 to 14 times. I've also heard "shirp, shirp, teew teew teew teew teew." I began counting the number of "shirps" versus "teews" and noticed it's 2 and 6, with a few variations.

Although I complain about being woken before I would like, I will admit that I can appreciate hearing such friendly songs as cheerup, cheerio, purdy and what-cheer, first thing in the morning. It's as if they're saying, "cheerio! What a purdy morning, cheerup and you'll see what-cheer is in store for you today!"

An Unfortunate Nesting Location

As my mom would say, "Robins must be really dumb."

To explain, over the past several years Mom has taken note of all the bizarre locations that the robins in Duluth have chosen to nest.

There was the summer of 2005 when one robin made her nest in the hanging basket right outside the front door to their house. We tried to accommodate her as best we could by avoiding use of the front door, and I think it was working pretty well. Then we threw my dad a retirement party and all the extra humans made for one nervous momma. Sadly, she did not hatch any babies.

Two years ago another robin also nested in a hanging flower basket. My mom would keep tabs on her, with one update to us saying, "Mother robin is stoically keeping to her nest, trying to hatch those babies."

More recently, there was a story in the Duluth News Tribune about a robin who made her nest in a $14.95 rose bush at the Cub Foods garden center and would chase unsuspecting patrons away. 

In the end though, I'm not so sure that robins are dumb, but that we make it really easy for them to nest in inconvenient places. 

The Notorious Brown-Headed Cowbirds

We found this egg carefully placed on the edge of the garden box. It's too far from any nest or tree for it to simply fall out and land just so. I suspect that a cowbird may be behind this one.

We've found abandoned broken eggs in our yard before. A few weeks ago Rob watched a brown-headed cowbird fly from the pine tree out back and drop a robin's egg just inches from our deck. Cowbirds are known as "brood parasites" that search out other bird's nests to lay their eggs in. They even go so far as to find nests with speckled eggs (to match their own so the host won't recognize them as foreign), and they essentially stake out these nests waiting for the hosts to leave before laying their own egg. Usually they will remove one or more of the host's eggs, perhaps so that bird won't notice that there's more eggs than she laid herself. I don't know if birds can count or have a sense for how many eggs they're incubating but it's some fascinating stuff!

The host bird raises these cowbird babies as their own. Last summer I saw evidence of this foster-parenting when a male cardinal was feeding a young cowbird. What really intrigues me is that these cowbirds are not raised by their kind, so how do they all know to do this when they mature? It must all be hard-wired into their little birds brains. It's simply amazing!

The Dedicated Robin

Late last week, as Rob and I were settling in to watch some TV, we heard something hit the basement window. It was the kind of noise that makes your heart sink: a clunk muffled by flailing feathers. Upon investigation we noticed two robins perched on the fence, nervously cocking their heads. They were fine, no harm done. Laughing, we scolded them for being such dummies.

Throughout the weekend though, a particular robin had come back to that window every 10 minutes only to repeatedly fly into it for about 30 seconds before we would chase him away.

I've read that male robins make it their mission to defend their territory from those who dare to encroach during nesting season. When they see their reflection in a window they believe it is another robin, and the closer they get to that "intruder" the more it looks to them as if the intruder is challenging them back! It's an endless cycle of wrongly perceived threats that ends with the robin attacking his own reflection. In our case, that robin has been battling himself for almost a week.

On Memorial Day, this robin was unstoppable. At first his misguided valor was funny. By mid-afternoon, however, humor was replaced with sheer aggravation as that bird flopped into every last nerve we had.

I placed a deck chair against the window to see if it would block enough of the reflection but soon realized the chair had become a handy, bird-poo-covered perch for him to rest on while he stared his enemy down. I put paper over the window and it seems to have helped.

As soon as his brood hatches his attention will turn to caring for his family. The average robin egg incubation period takes about 12-14 days, so we may endure another week of this crazy behavior.