As I write I can see a clutch of fat little heads popping out from the nest in the chimney vent, and from the bedroom—even with the fan on—I can hear their impatient peeping.
They are standing on the edge of the nest flapping their wings. In fact, this morning in the jumble of the nest, I’m not entirely certain whether one little one has already flown.
Now, I suppose, is the real danger zone, as inexperienced fledglings take their first flights in a wood filled with predators. “Nature red in tooth and claw” is not just a line from Tennyson. I worry. But I also understand. Can you root against a hawk or crow? I can’t.
But I root for these baby finches, going out into the hard world to make their way. I will not know next spring if the new parents were once today’s fledglings. And maybe that mystery is part of their enchantment.
Fly away, finchlets. Be brave.
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Since it is unlikely you are available to dog sit or cook dog food, there are two ways you can help support my work: You can become a paid subscriber (see below), and you can also purchase my books—even pre-order the new novel—at your favorite bookseller. Some of my favorite shops are Honest Dog Books, Boswell Book Company, Mystery to Me Books, Books and Company, Barbara’s Bookstores, Barnes & Noble, Target, and, of course, here. My illustrated children’s book, My Dog Pete is available only here. Thank you!
P.S. Paid subscribers will soon be able to read advance snippets of the new novel.
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And now for your gratuitous dog photo:
Years ago, I was in a barn at end of day and the air was suffused with the smell of hay and horse poop and the light came through the boards in shapes, slots and rectangles so you could see the dust rising and every horse was content, face down in a bag of oats, munching quietly but audibly.
I wondered then and I wonder now, if that is what heaven is like.
Thank you for your vast appreciation of the animals around us.
I tell myself every spring that the wrens building (or rebuilding) a nest in the space between the support beams of our back porch are the babies, now grown, from the Spring before. We walk gingerly over the area during the nesting period, peer down to check for progress, know the feeding schedule by the raucous peeps, (a noise that could annoy if Mom and/or Dad was slow in providing food) and watch as Mom and Dad prepare the fledglings to leave the nest with shared pride witnessing the accomplishments! So, come next Spring… I’ll welcome the next generation with pleasure. Hope your Finches return too!!