Matt the Non-Mother
I generally need to knock out a few chores while the twins nap. I have several options for how I spend this time. I could clean the fish tank. I could water plants. I could fold laundry from that pile of clothes that are clean except for their thin coating of dust. After putting the twins down yesterday morning, I looked around and saw that I could still see the fish in the aquarium, realized that I’d never have to fold laundry again if I just keep pulling clean clothes off the top, and noticed that the plants were looking a little browner and sounding a little crunchier than healthy plants should. Figuring the others could wait, I grabbed some water and set about saving our few plants.
While watering the hanging plant just outside our front door, I found a bird’s nest. It was a small nest probably belonging to a similarly small bird, like a finch or maybe an escaped pet pygmy parrot. It looked about finished, packed tightly into a neat bowl with twigs and the occasional shred of paper, and it was probably better wired for internet access than our home. The basket is an ideal location for a nest, beyond the clutches of any terrestrial predators, and nestled under an overhang that offers protection from the sun and wind. It also stays dry most of the time since it’s out of the rain, and we rarely remember to water it as evidenced by the fact that I just now discovered a completely formed nest with its own wi-fi hotspot.
You may be thinking this is a magical opportunity to observe nature right outside our front door. I can spend the summer watching our avian guests start a family and sharing the learning experience with the kids: Eggs appear and eventually hatch, the parents bring food for the babies, teach the kids to fly, nurture them in preparation for the day they leave the nest, and finally withhold the food supply and internet access to force them out of the place. It would be nature at work.
I immediately threw yanked the nest out of the pot and threw it on the ground; didn’t think twice. I’m not some cruel ogre though; I made sure there weren’t any eggs in it before casting it to the concrete below. The last thing I want in one of my potted plants that I pour my heart, soul, and water into on at least a biweekly basis is a bird’s nest.
When I was younger and still living at home, my mom found a bird’s nest in one of her hanging plants. She found the birds charming and left them alone, carefully watering around the nest on a proper watering schedule. She found them less charming when they killed most of the basket’s vegetation, but she didn’t do anything since by that point the nest housed chicks, and only some cruel ogre would destroy a bird’s nest when it would likely result in the death of chicks. Eventually the supports failed under the avian weight and the basket crashed to the ground, knocking the nest and its contents onto the ground anyway. My mother scrambled to save the chicks that morning despite being late for work, and wound up covered in mites as a reward for her failed effort.
That was a learning experience for me. Specifically I learned to never leave a bird’s nest in your hanging plants. Someday I may pass this information onto my children, though I’d rather do it the easy way by telling them. In the meantime, I’d be happy if I could pass on knowledge about folding clothes.
While watering the hanging plant just outside our front door, I found a bird’s nest. It was a small nest probably belonging to a similarly small bird, like a finch or maybe an escaped pet pygmy parrot. It looked about finished, packed tightly into a neat bowl with twigs and the occasional shred of paper, and it was probably better wired for internet access than our home. The basket is an ideal location for a nest, beyond the clutches of any terrestrial predators, and nestled under an overhang that offers protection from the sun and wind. It also stays dry most of the time since it’s out of the rain, and we rarely remember to water it as evidenced by the fact that I just now discovered a completely formed nest with its own wi-fi hotspot.
You may be thinking this is a magical opportunity to observe nature right outside our front door. I can spend the summer watching our avian guests start a family and sharing the learning experience with the kids: Eggs appear and eventually hatch, the parents bring food for the babies, teach the kids to fly, nurture them in preparation for the day they leave the nest, and finally withhold the food supply and internet access to force them out of the place. It would be nature at work.
I immediately threw yanked the nest out of the pot and threw it on the ground; didn’t think twice. I’m not some cruel ogre though; I made sure there weren’t any eggs in it before casting it to the concrete below. The last thing I want in one of my potted plants that I pour my heart, soul, and water into on at least a biweekly basis is a bird’s nest.
When I was younger and still living at home, my mom found a bird’s nest in one of her hanging plants. She found the birds charming and left them alone, carefully watering around the nest on a proper watering schedule. She found them less charming when they killed most of the basket’s vegetation, but she didn’t do anything since by that point the nest housed chicks, and only some cruel ogre would destroy a bird’s nest when it would likely result in the death of chicks. Eventually the supports failed under the avian weight and the basket crashed to the ground, knocking the nest and its contents onto the ground anyway. My mother scrambled to save the chicks that morning despite being late for work, and wound up covered in mites as a reward for her failed effort.
That was a learning experience for me. Specifically I learned to never leave a bird’s nest in your hanging plants. Someday I may pass this information onto my children, though I’d rather do it the easy way by telling them. In the meantime, I’d be happy if I could pass on knowledge about folding clothes.
posted by Matt at
10:16 PM
1 Comments:
A couple years ago, I made the same misstake as your mother did. I let the birds have the hanging plant location for it's family. I think it was all the ammonia from the babies that killed the plant.
By
CINDY, at 8:04 AM
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