Pre-Ramble: There’s a reason my golf handicap is so high … In addition to being a bad golfer, I am often distracted by the array of pretty flowers and wildlife that can be found out on our neighborhood golf course.

We’ve got foxes, turkeys, deer, egrets, great blue herons, goldfinch, blue birds, bunnies, turtles, … and three-quarters of the way up a big pine tree on hole #13, there’s a bald eagle nest — with two eaglets — !

If you’ve ever seen a bald eagle nest, you know that they are basically a giant heap of sticks wedged into a fork near the top of a tree.  And, if you’ve ever seen a baby eagle, you know that they are … well, how do I put this delicately?  …. ugly, homely, hideous-looking, … rather awkward in appearance and larger than the word “baby” would imply (they’re huge) … (juvenile eaglet shown at right).

If you look up from the tee-box, you can often see the mother eagle soaring around looking for edible little critters on the ground, or stationed on a nearby branch, patiently watching over the nest.  Such a majestic and diligent creature.

Based on the amount of squawking that comes out of that nest, I’m pretty sure we’ve got a couple of teenaged-girl-eaglets up there. Bet you a dollar that there are seed husks under the beds and feathers clogging the shower drain.  Ah, the tribulations of parenthood.

The Take-Away: Be that as it may, as the mother of two nearly grown girls who are all but perched on the edge of our nest this summer, I have only two words of advice for Mother Eagle:

1. Soak up as much of their wonderful presence and exuberance as you can because the time you can keep them under your wing is so, so short; and
2. Brush up on your tech skills. … Once those kidlets fly out of the nest, a quick text, Twitter or skype is all you’ve really got.

Pre-Ramble: Lots of flapping and preening in the nest today as the Chiplets pull downy fuzz out of their coat by the beak-full to make way for the more streamlined, aerodynamic feathers below. Little did I know, as I watched the activity, that these fledgling feathered wings would be soon called to action.

So, earlier in the week, I had witnessed Mother Chipping Sparrow swoop onto the scene with a fresh, plump, bright green caterpillar dangling from her beak. From what I could see from my viewing bunker, she had chopped it up and distributed it evenly among the clamoring kids. Smart bird. We moms have all had to contend with the sibling rivalry ruckus that comes from the inevitable inequity of food portions … “No fair! Her piece of caterpillar is bigger than mine … ” blah, blah …

Since then, I have come across these bright green caterpillars everywhere…  I’m walking the dog — there’s a caterpillar… I’m on a run – there’s a caterpillar… I’m out in the garden — there’s a caterpillar. And, rather than pass up a perfectly good caterpillar, I’ve been coaxing them onto sticks and dragging them up onto the porch. (I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention this to anyone; the fact that I’ve set up orange traffic cones across the nesting zone to minimize disruption has generated more than enough snickering among my heartless, unsentimental family and friends.) 

I thought about delivering the caterpillar hot dish directly into the little outstretched beaks, but then thought the better of it. Would I want a complete stranger walking up to the crib and shoving food into my baby’s mouth? Something they had picked up off the street, no less? And what is the shelf life on these insects? I’d hate to be giving the Chiplets an expired caterpillar. So, I’d carefully lay the bugs-on-a-stick on the porch near the nest and slink away. They were always gone the next time I looked out there.

We knew it was going to happen.  Just after the above photo was taken (if you look closely, you can make out three little bird faces … one is looking right at you). (And, yes, there were four eggs in the nest … I don’t know what happened to the fourth bird, and I don’t want to talk about it.) As I made my way back inside, a frenzy of chirping broke out, and before I could turn to see what the commotion was all about, the nest was empty.

That’s the way it’s supposed to be. We’ve known since day one, that sooner or later the little birds were going to be ready to take that leap of faith, or predestination, or whatever it is that makes a creature fling itself beak-first into the future. Any other outcome would have been sad, tragic even. So, why is there still such an empty place where the energy around the nest used to be?

I’m sure the fact that our oldest child has gone to college and the youngest one is poised on the edge of our proverbial nest has something to do with it. It somehow doesn’t seem fair that in raising a child, the outcome that you hope for, that you work a significant part of your life for, exposes you to a deeply complex range of emotions, each of which resonates with a twang somewhere in your heart. It’s like suffering a loss and receiving a great gift all at once.

The Take-Away: Enjoy the moment and take things as they come. Just when you think things are the way they are, new things happen — bird nests pop up in bushes, kids move on to the next exciting phase of their lives, a twist of circumstances presents opportunities to try new things in the world. Seems like our best bet is to experience the things that come our way to the fullest extent of our interest, and be ready to move into whatever comes next. 

Sure, the Chiplets are gone. It’ll be an adjustment… (…what will I do with all that extra time?)  The good news is we can use the front door again, and I can finally sweep up all those dead pine needles and restock the Christmas planters. My hope is that the young birds will learn to find the bright green caterpillars on their own, perfect their flying skills, and send me a Tweet once in a while.

Pre-Ramble:  At the risk of sounding like Dr. Seuss on a backyard nature hunt, I was all ready to call out the fact that yesterday, our little bird nest had gained a third egg. ! 

That’s right — every day for the past three days, Mother Chipping Sparrow has added another tiny blue egg to the brood. I am just fascinated by this nest … I must check on it fifty times a day. My husband isn’t nearly as taken with the whole thing. Basically, he just rolls his eyes and says something dismissive and passive-aggressive like, “Great.” 

So, then I got to thinking — really — do your readers care about some bird laying eggs on a front porch in suburban Minnesota?  Where’s the witty commentary on the important issues of the day?  The keen observations on innovation, creativity, and human behavior?  Where are the uplifting stories? The wise-cracks about celebrities and political figures?  Advice for the President’s dog?  … So, I figured a couple days of this birdy-cam news is all anyone really needs…

UNTIL TODAY!!  

This morning, plain as day, right there in the bottom of the nest, was A FOURTH EGG!!! 

Try as I might, Mother-B (shown above — not actual size) returned to the nest before I was able to scramble for the camera. I haven’t been able to catch her in an on-leave moment ever since.

Four eggs in four days … this Quatro-chick is really delivering!  The bird book said 3-5 eggs per brood was the range … and here we are at egg number four! Will there be a fifth tomorrow?  Will she exceed the national averages and go for egg number six?? This is almost more exciting than the American Idol finale! (Ok, maybe not.) (And my husband rolls his eyes about that too.)

The Take-Away:  Sometimes, you just need a break from all the gloom and doom …, the tabloid drama …, and take a look at the stuff going on in your own backyard.  Sure, the market might be down and gas prices might be up, but, hey – we’ve got four eggs in the nest!!

Pre-Ramble: The other day, much to my surprise, I spotted a tiny bird’s nest in one of the potted “trees” next to our front door. There was no bird in it, and no real signs of activity. I’ve been keeping an eye on the nest, hoping that the tidy, intricately woven little structure hadn’t been abandoned before it had had a chance to host a little bird family.

This nest was remarkable for several reasons:

1. just big enough to hold a golf ball, the architectural symmetry and detail of the nest was a wonder to behold;
2. as I looked closer, I realized that, mixed in with the blades of grass and twigs, the inside of the nest was lined with hundreds of strands of Daisy’s white dog hair. (Amazing, both in terms of the dexterity required to pick up a single stalk of dog hair in one’s beak, and in the incredibly putsy and undoubtedly time-consuming process of weaving all of that stuff into something livable.)
3. of all the luxurious, secluded locations available on our 2 acres of heavily wooded lot, Mother Bird picked a dried out tree topper (hastily jammed into containers last Christmas) that flanks the front doorway of our house — one of the highest trafficked areas possible, and right at Daisy’s nose level.

Well, so, this morning, after several days of the empty nest, just when I had nearly given up hope, I heard an unusual chirping coming from the front of the house. I won’t admit that I dashed over to see if the noise could be coming from the nest, and sure enough, a bird was now scrunched into the perfectly round little space… !

Immediately, I texted my girls with the good news; who, I assure you, are sitting at school right now going, “My mother is a nut-case.”

But wait — it gets better … (I know, you can barely stand it) … When I looked out the front window a few minutes later, the bird was gone, and cradled in the bottom of the nest was a single tiny blue egg… !

Yep — another text to the girls — and a photo (above right).

The Take-Away:  With spring break already a distant memory and grad parties in the air, many folks are lamenting/celebrating the fact that their youngest child will be headed off to college. I am happy to report that we’re not empty-nesters yet!