A few months ago Raphael and Clay built a birdhouse. They hung it right outside my and Clay's bedroom window, and within a month it had a nesting pair of birds. Don't ask me what kind of birds. I spent a thousand years sitting at the window with my laptop, scrolling through pictures of Colorado birds, trying to figure out what our guests were, exactly. They're those little brown fluttery birds that are everywhere. Sparrows of some sort. LBJs. I suspect I may not be a birder at heart.
We all spent quite some time sitting at the window, watching them flit back and forth, tucking bits of straw and sticks and whatnot into their new home. Raphael was SO PROUD that they had chosen HIS BIRDHOUSE that you would have thought he had personally invented birds. "Bir!" Sophia exclaimed, "Bir! Bir!"
We were all pretty thrilled.
Within a few more weeks they had eggs, and they hatched. At first you could just barely hear the babies, a rustling tweeting whenever a parent returned with some food. Clay, with his moderate hearing loss, couldn't hear them at all.
Now, a few weeks later still, those tiny tweeting birds have grown into two raucous, demanding things. When their mom lands on the perch by their entrance, both of them poke their heads out and positively bellow. You would think that natural selection would reward baby birds who were quiet and unobtrusive, because when you're tiny and defenseless, it behooves one to go unnoticed (life's lessons learned in middle school). But the opposite seems true, because these little guys make an unholy racket. The other day I saw the mom return with an enormous grasshopper. Oh, sister, I thought, I don't envy you, divvying that up.
This morning the din in the birdhouse (RAPHAEL'S birdhouse) started well before 6 AM. Saturday. Clay rolled over and groaned, "Ugh. Do you want me to close the window?"
But I was smiling to myself.
"No, don't. I like the birds."
I know that racket. And I know why that mom can't stay away. And in just a few hours Clay and I will get in the car, drive a million miles, and bring our own back home. Soon my nest will be full again.
I can't wait to see him, and I can't wait for the noise and demand of everybody back where they should be.
Sing it, little birds.
(p.s. Sorry for the picture quality. You might have to embiggen to see the babies. Also, the reason for all the dead vines in the background is because the spring was so wild and wonky that it killed - KILLED all three of my honeysuckle vines! All three! And yet the peach tree is covered with peaches! Explain THAT to me.)
(p.p.s. Tre is coming home!)