In the morning yesterday, May 28th, 2013, our little baby birds were squeaking and squawking up a storm. Momma was busy going back and forth feeding and cleaning her little ones. We so enjoyed having the wee critters around. But you don’t know how much until they are gone.
Yup, later that afternoon when we came back from a job, Joe looked in the nest and panicked. He grabbed a flashlight and, well they still weren’t in their house inside our ceramic fish. He called for me to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. “Where are they?” “did Momma carry them off?” “Did something come here and kill them?” “They are too young!” I put this in quotes because, this my big bad husband in panic mode. Yes, he’s a nature lover, though you wouldn’t know that by looking at him.
I kept telling him, as he’s searching our back yard and the woods behind us, “Honey, they flew the coop. that’s what they do. They out grew their fish, now they have to move on.”
I couldn’t believe I was the voice of reason. I’m usually the soft one. The one who wants you to put all the fish you caught back in the water because they are cute, they have feelings. Gee, haven’t you watched Saving Nemo?”
Anyway, this morning, as I woke and went outside with my coffee, the back porch was so quiet, I nearly cried. I miss those four very noisy birds. I miss Momma popping in every five to ten minutes. I miss my adopted family. I only hope the bird who placed a nest in the second ceramic fish will also lay her eggs there and we can go through this painful loss all over again.
Gee, Momma’s out there , Now I get the empty nest syndrome.