With Life Comes ...

Hanging sheltered on the back of our house is a bird bottle. Years ago, before we were married, Don and I visited one of our favorite Colonial reproduction establishments in PA, a store decked out in all its Colonial Williamsburg-esque glory. I believe it was Christmastime, and we were searching for a gift for my parents. We saw the bird bottle, which we thought would be an instant hit, especially with my mom. It was. It's been hanging in that spot ever since.

Each year, about 2 to 3 bird couples take up residence, commence their housekeeping, set up their perfect nest, and soon we hear the peeping of about 5 babies, on average. It's a very exciting time for all of us, and a great lesson in nature, right in our back yard. However, with new life often comes ...

Yep. Dead baby birds.

Several weeks ago while on Poop Patrol around the yard, my kids spotted three dead babies birds, two very tiny and gray and featherless, and one actually still half in the egg. I'm not sure where they came from -- they were early, and from somewhere other than our bird bottle. We knew we had a family coming, but not yet.

For the past week or two, we have been enjoying the arrival of our babies, five in all. We had been hearing the high-pitched squeaking for several days before we finally saw them. When Mama Bird arrived with food, the babies -- all five of them -- sat up and opened their giant yellow beaks, bellowing away. My kids were ecstatic, watching this new family. But there were five babies in a rather small bottle. Pretty soon we'd be having not only a lesson in nature, but also in subtraction.

This afternoon Aidan was playing wiffle ball, practicing solo on his tee. He slammed the ball toward the house -- bam! -- and it fell behind their play house ... which sits directly under the bird bottle.

"Oh, MOMMY! NOOOO!"

Here we go ...

He found the first dead baby bird, lying on the concrete wall. It was quite small, with a scrawny head and an even scrawnier neck. Its legs were very long, with giant feet -- just like a puppy. Its feathers had been starting to form. Aidan was sad.

About two minutes later, Grace found the second one under the bench next to the play house. It was much, much bigger than its sibling, fully formed with an abundance of feathers. He was downright cute, which Grace kept saying to me. "He's cute, Mommy. He's soooo cute!"

I doubled up the plastic bags and picked them up, still soft and pliable. Poor little things. It made me sad, even though this is Nature in action. It was a lesson for my kids, and for me.

And then there were three ...