My Hitchcock Moment

I had just finished the school run – afternoon JK – for my daughter Ainsley the other day when I spied this adorable baby robin as I pulled into my driveway. Narrowly swerving in time to avoid it, I realized it wasn’t really moving much and so naturally I ran in the house to get my gardening gloves to help the poor little thing. It must be noted here that my daughters and I have been watching with great joy the progress of the bird’s nests in our front cedar bush. Typically my husband spies the nests first and chases the robins away every year, but this year my girls took a stand and begged him to let them make their nests, build their little families near ours. I went along for the ride. What the heck it will be a lovely little spring nature/ science lesson. About two months ago we realized the babies had hatched and just last weekend while gardening we could clearly see robin mommy sitting on the nest with the sweet little furry baby robin underneath. By Monday when we looked again the baby and mother robin were gone, nests empty. It had all happened so fast, we observed. Apparently the babies were off somewhere nearby learning to fly. It filled our little hearts with warmth. Which brings me to this creature in my driveway. Knowing full well this was one of those baby birds, I tried to cradle it in my hands and had plans to sit him back in the nest, still in my front cedar. What ensued was a tragi-comedy of sorts that happens much too often around here. Picture me chasing tiny bird, which suddenly has begun a half-run half-fly towards our busy roadway. Now picture mother bird and every other robin in the neighbourhood suddenly realizing this robin baby was in danger. I remember chirping and swooping and squawking and a bird barely missing my crazy mommy hairdo of the day. Well feeling slightly like that character in Hitchcock’s The Birds, I eventually scooped the bird up and placed him closer to a tree. Brave me, hurray for Mom! It should be noted that the last thing I wanted here was my daughter (7) stepping off the school bus to find dead baby bird on front lawn or road and ensuing tears, shouts, horror, then subsequent philosophical talk about life death, dying etc.. I went in for a time to check my computer and get busy and eventually my daughter’s school bus pulled up. The bird was still okay. She oohed and aaahed and then we went about our business of after school snack and chit chat about her day. It was around about the time my pumpkin stuck her head in the fridge that we heard the desparate shrieks of birds on the front lawn and looked out just in time to see tabby cat running across busy road. Bolting out the front door and positioning myself between the cat and baby bird, I realized I wasn’t going to have much luck when out walked my daughter screaming at the top of her lungs. It was, in the end apparently loud enough to scare off the cat and freak a few neighbours out. But the bird survived. Crisis averted. I think next year I may just turn a blind eye in February when my husband clears the burgeoning nests from the front tree.

Mom of two beautiful active girls, traveller, fitness junkie, social media consultant, and keeper of the sanity.