Brood Intrude

In mid April I was wandering past the lawnmower storage area—an open, but roofed lean-to where I stash various outdoor tools. A bird flew from its hiding place as I walked by. Maybe it was pecking around on the ground for stray seeds that had overwintered there? A little later I walked by in the other direction and the bird once again flushed from the same place. This time I noted that it was a Carolina wren.

This bird likes to build its nest in secret places that we humans create for them—inside sheds, in secluded corners of buildings... even in the pockets of garments hanging on the clothesline! Its second flight that morning suggested to me that somewhere in the tool area it had constructed its nest. With the bird now temporarily gone, I carefully began to inspect various possible wren-favored cubbyholes, to see if I could locate a nest. After spotting its brooding place, I could then be careful not to disturb its family plans and even watch, as the eggs hatched and the wee babies quickly grew into fledglings in just a couple of weeks. I have observed and photographed this process in the past. It is fascinating.

I soon located her egg-filled nest—unfortunately hidden deep inside the grass catcher for the lawnmower, which was perched on top of the mower. I quickly retreated, trying not to disturb its nest. Now I was in a quandary. It would be at least three weeks until the eggs would hatch and the babies fledge, before I could use the mower; yet in another week or so the weeds and grass would grow enough that mowing would be demanded—lest the unruly vegetation begin to harbor chiggers, ticks, and other biting critters. What to do? I was caught between permitting this choice of a secret nesting place (thus helping the local birds) and intruding to gain access to the mower, terminating the bird's effort to procreate. What to do?

I did not have to wait long to resolve my dilemma. The next morning—a very chilly morning—I cautiously passed by the bird's hiding place, but no parental flight occurred. A short time later I walked by again, with still no action. That was worrisome, as mom would surely be warming the eggs on a cold morning. She must have abandoned the nest—probably because I had inadvertently disturbed it, the day before. In another hour or so, I became convinced that she had vacated her nest and her babies would perish. I had meddled in Nature.

This event solved my mowing need, but left me sad that my interference had disrupted Nature's process. I was responsible for the extinction of five baby wrens, despite my care. Without my intrusion the propagation of this family may have been successful.

I retrieved the nest with its five precious eggs—thus freeing my lawnmower. I will honor the lost five lives by placing the nest in my meditation hut and contemplating this unfortunate event. Was my role helpful in some sense, because I potentially provided a safe place for the wren to raise her babies—possibly away from a marauding snake—or was it harmful, because these are five birds never to fly... never to sing? There are no facile answers... only vexing questions. The preserved nest in my meditation hut will become a contemplative icon for me to ponder on.