I am an unofficial wild bird parent. It is the worst job imaginable. The responsibility of watching hummingbirds raise their young, with no control of the outcome, is overwhelming. You guessed it: I am a control freak. Okay, I hope you don’t consider me a “freak,” so to speak, but being unable to help baby birds isn’t easy. It is the plight of all parents, is it not? I have had to learn to let nature take its course — a new concept for me.
This is Chip…or I should say was Chip. Excuse me while I go cry. This blog is dedicated to Chip’s memory. I shall explain…
One early summer day I noticed a hummingbird perched on a mobile I had bought on a beach in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico several years ago. The humble mobile — made from fishing line, three pieces of wood for a triangular base, and a few hanging wooden fish — is right outside the dining room window to provide us with as much enjoyment as possible. It gets awfully windy here in Santa Clarita, so I have had ample opportunity to see the fish fly. Over the years, some of the fish have literally flown away.
The hummingbird that landed on the mobile had a tiny piece of fluff in its beak. We have hummingbird feeders in our backyard, so seeing the little creatures is a common occurrence at Casa Turquesa (aka our house). When I noticed the bird coming again and again with bits and pieces of things, it hit me that she was building a nest right outside our window! I was simultaneously thrilled at the prospect of witnessing my first bird birth, as well as worried that the mobile wouldn’t be sturdy enough to hold the nest and its hatchlings.
I later learned that hummingbirds build their nests even before they mate. The female prepares ahead of time for the big event…sort of like the famous quote in Field of Dreams: “Build it and they will come.” Little did I know, our mobile hanging under the eaves of our backyard patio roof was a preferred spot for a nest, being safe from predators, near a source of food (our feeders and other garden flowers) and in the shade. I also learned that mamas love to build with spider webs, (of which we had an ample supply), as they are sticky and hold all the loose fluff, plant fibers and sticks in place. In other words, a nest is the perfect union of spider and bird. Weird but true.
I will make a very long story short: we watched the mama build her nest, lay her eggs, sit on said eggs, feed her baby (turned out there was only one), and then prepare the fledgling for flight. We named the mom “Sally” and the baby “Chip.” Chip was unable to make that first journey, however. We tried putting him back in the nest, but he just fell out again. I did my research and what I learned was that many baby birds don’t make it…it is nature’s way of weeding out the population. I hoped Sally would find a way to get him to fly, but she did not. I felt so helpless.
This is not what any parent wants to experience. But the cold hard laws and facts of nature were bigger than my hopes for Chip. We came back after a long day away from home, and he was on the ground, dead. We buried him in the backyard in a cigar box my husband found in the garage. I was in tears.
I toyed with removing the fish mobile with the nest on it, but I didn’t have the heart. Several months passed when suddenly we noticed a new mama bird bringing her own fluff, webs and bits of pieces of things to add to the existing nest. We were going to be hummingbird parents once again! Oh, nooooo!
I tried not to get attached to these new babies…but as is my nature, I named the mom Mabel. The babies (there were two) were named Ford and Ferrari. Okay, not terribly creative, but this time I wanted them to fly — and fly fast. Again, I worried about them. They survived a freezing cold snap, rain, wind, an earthquake and my gardener’s leaf blower. One day, a Blue Jay landed near the nest. I ran out of the house to scare him away. My husband, in a further attempt to keep the predator away from our babies, threw his shoe at the bird…which promptly landed in our neighbor’s yard.
As of this writing, Ford and Ferrari have not yet flown away. They are both eating and pooping up a storm. I see them flapping their wings, and they look strong enough for the flight. Both of them are bigger than Chip ever was, and somehow manage to share the same nest! Mabel still feeds them, too, but then she flits off to some other location close by because there simply isn’t enough room.
Okay. So I’ve been spending all of this time telling you about how I have gotten attached to baby hummingbirds and I can’t control their fate. Parents out there — are you sensing my dilemma? Yes, it has dawned on me that this whole experience is really a mirror to how I feel about being a human parent.
I once read that we don’t own our children, we borrow them. Heck, with all I’ve sacrificed for my kids, I want to take ownership! I’m entitled, right? But I can’t. We feed and clothe them, give them shelter, enroll them in sports, worry about them, throw them birthday parties, get them braces, teach them a few lessons on how to be responsible people in the world, and eventually, they will fly away. And it will be at once sad and wonderful that we have done our job.
Here is a picture of my 16 year old daughter’s elementary school, which is right down the street from where I live. The trees are showing signs of spring…and every time I walk by the school I feel a flood of memories. It was just yesterday that she was in first grade, second, sixth…and now she is a Junior in high school, already thinking about her prom dress. My son is 28 years old, married, working and living a good life. His high school days seem like forever ago! I remember when he first moved out of the house to live up in San Francisco. I would walk by his empty room and was struck by how the quiet seemed loud.
Like fledglings, time must fly. Once our kids are adults, it is our job to let them explore the world their way. It is as difficult a thing to do as…as anything. Watching the hummingbird fledglings has taught me how nature has to take its course, whether we like it or not.
Here is my “little girl” with one of our cats.
Here is a video I found about a woman who raised a baby finch with successful results. I’ve watched it several times.
Spring is in the air, and with it, the promise of new beginnings. I’m pretty confident that Ford and Ferrari will be flying off soon — and I will celebrate their departure with tears of happiness.
Cheryl Thatt-Burbank 