Last spring when the weather turned tolerable enough for working outside in the garden, I went to get some tools from the corner of the house where we had hung them on nails. The winter had blown leaves into that tool storage area, and a few messy bits of dry grass were lying around. As I reached to take down the hoe, I stopped short. There was an awful lot of grass lying in a clump on top of it.
A bird flew out. I climbed up on a step stool and peeked into the grassy clump. Sure enough, it was a nest. I assumed that those ugly hairless creatures huddled inside were baby robins.
I went back later to get another photo but the musical sound of the camera coming on must have made the baby birds think their mother was coming back. By the time I clicked the picture, wildly guessing at the aim, the liveliest of the baby birds were begging for food.
I’m sure you can guess that I had to put my gardening on hold – at least anything that involved using a hoe. In a couple of weeks (I don’t remember exactly how long) the birds were ready for take-off.
Once the nest was empty, I took the hoe down and saw that I had quite a mess to clean off the wall. I don’t know how they got it up there. But I guess there’s a saying that you don’t do it in your own nest. Regardless, they left me to clean up after them. I didn’t put the hoe back there for the next year.
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