Mother’s day was kind of hard for me, but it was for reasons you might not imagine.
Yes, I missed my Mom – but also revelled in lots of wonderful memories. Yes, I’m sorry our sons could not be with me, but they all sent their greetings and love, and I enjoyed the chats and texts! Yes, Hubs was away for the weekend, but that was actually my decision. It was originally planned for me to be with him, but the opportunity to perhaps catch some needed sleep kept me at home to give it a try. He visited Paine College in Augusta, GA to do some research on a project he is working on, and then went on to a college reunion (his 49th – odd year, but he was invited to attend by some classmates who were celebrating their 50th and wanted him there!)
No, the reason for my sadness was a heart-rending view of the way of Nature as it happened outside the window in our upstairs hallway. The property on which our house was built 111 years ago was a Christmas Tree farm at one time, and although most of the fir trees were taken down for their original purpose, we have in our front yard two magnificent Douglas Firs – at least 25-30 feet tall. They almost hide our house from view of the street.
The trees have served as a nesting spot for different birds over the years, and are generally quite safe from predators because of their densely crowded branches. I went to the window because I heard a huge racket coming through the glass. Then I saw a pair of robins screaming and darting back and forth in and around the tree, seemingly frantic. For good reason. Next into view came a large crow with something dangling from his beak. He sat on the uppermost branch and just glared at the robins, not the least bit intimidated. The item in his beak would occasionally jerk and wiggle. I thought at first it was a large bundle of twigs, suitable perhaps for building its own nest, and that the robins were trying to scare it away from their own nest hidden in the tree.
I soon realized to my horror, however, that it was not twigs in the crow’s beak but a newly hatched robin chick. It was still alive and struggling, and its parents were trying desperately to get the crow to drop its prize. In case you are not aware of it, crows are omnivorous, and will eat whatever strikes their fancy – from seeds to roadkill to the occasional defenseless prey.
I happened to have my camera near by but I could not bring myself to photograph the scene I was witnessing, as I tried to figure if there was something I could do to stop it When the crow finally took off, baby in its beak, I watched as the pair of robins just sat on the end of a lower branch. They eventually left and went back, I assume, to their nest, where I prayed there were other chicks still thriving in their nest. I do not know.
If you remember, the last photo on my “Second sight” post was of a male robin. (Posted again below.) He has his eyes fixed on the fir-tree (not in the photo). My tendency to anthropomorphize birds and animals goes unchecked at times like this, and I felt I knew what was on the robin’s mind. He thought of his distraught mate, and he thought of the young one he had helped bring into being that was no more. I consoled myself that perhaps he told himself that such is the way of life and death. Both are always present, and both have their ways. Yes, life will find a way, and so will death. It is all part of the plan, but still. . .
So, Mother’s Day was a bit hard for me. But I learned to treasure even more the wonderful times I have had being a mother to our three sons. I have had more time than many, and I pray for many more years to come, but whatever happens, I offer praise and thanksgiving to the God of my life, who notes even the fall of the tiniest sparrow – or robin – and knows that it is not the end.
I wish you enough sorrow, so that you will more greatly treasure all your joys; I wish you enough “hellos” to sustain you through every “good-bye;” I wish you all, my Gentle Readers, enough. . .