Monday, February 7, 2011

Last spring, I came across perhaps one of the saddest things—ever. On our back patio, up against the house, we have two large potted ficus trees in which mommy hummingbirds love to make their nests. Sometimes they opt to make their own nests. Other occasions, they choose to use the ones already there from previous years.

Towards the end of winter, easing into spring, the first mommy humming bird of the season took up nesting in one of those trees. And throughout the season, we had at least half a dozen mommy hummingbirds move into those ficuses. I especially love this time of year for the very fact that I get to watch, up-close-and-personal, the mommies lay their eggs, roost on them, hatch them out and then tend to their young until they are strong enough to survive on their own.

Then, as happens each and every year, the last baby leaves and I know I’ll have to wait a whole year before I’ll be treated to the whole hummingbird cycle again. But last year, I got an extra treat when, well into summer, a lone mommy hummingbird flew to one of our trees, perched atop one of the existing nests and laid two tiny eggs. She was a good mom and tended to her eggs until they hatched, two perfectly healthy babies emerging. Day-by day, I watched with delight as the babies grew feathers and took nourishment from their mom.

But one day, the two baby birds standing at alert, beaks pointed skyward, waiting to have their mommy return to feed them, were in for a surprise. Their mom didn’t return. Nor did she come back the next day either. Yet those two babies stood like perfect statues, waiting…hoping…waiting some more.

The mommy never did return and her nest became a coffin for those still standing-at-attention-beaks-pointed-towards-the-sky baby birds. My heart broke, and although I knew I should remove the nest, I just couldn’t bring myself to do so. I suppose in some way, I left it there as a bit of a shrine to the baby birds and also to their fallen mother.

Then, two weeks ago, a new mommy hummingbird flew in and took up residency in that same potted ficus tree just one branch over from where the two little petrified babies still remained in their nest. Not wanting a new generation of hummingbirds to be negatively impacted by the grisly other nest, I stood atop a stool and snipped off the brand with the nest attached.

So why did I opt to share this sad tale? Although I still am saddened over what became of that poor hummingbird family, I smile when I look at the new mommy hummingbird that’s so attentive to her nest. I can’t help but wonder if perhaps she’s somehow related to the ones that didn’t make it. I like to believe that she is. That her babies will carry on where the others couldn’t.