Nesting Instinct

If you're a female and you don't live under a rock, the term nesting instinct is likely familiar. You know, that  feeling that you get  sometime in your mid to late 20's, sometimes in your  early 30's - it's that little voice inside your head that says, "Tick, tick, tick -time's a wastin' girl and you better get to it and do it."   Make babies. Throw away the diaphragm, toss out the pills. Reason takes a hike, and hormones rush in.

It's a big step, and all it takes is about 10 seconds. Zap! You're pregnant! now start decorating the baby's room, shopping for cute little onesies and diapers and really expensive diaper bags that come in really cool colours and patterns now with all sorts of pockets and pouches for baby necessities while travelling to your mom's for an hour to escape the fact that this is a REALLY BIG STEP you took, and it lasts a lifetime!

Deep Breath!

Yup. Nesting.

 But imagine being a bird!! And doing it every year. And every year the kids leave - yay! so you can get busy and do it again, and again. That is what you do, if you're a bird. You take a leap of faith one day, and plop out of the nest. Then you fly around free as a bird for a short shiny spell.  Then some brightly coloured gadabout catches your eye, and before you can flip him the bird, there you are - sitting on a  bunch of eggs! Feathering your nest and waiting for the "pick, pick, pick " to start so you can start flying hither and yon catching bugs like a crazed  bird brain, burping them up into outstretched beaks leading to huge empty stomachs, and then off again, and again, and again! Then one day, the fluff balls take a leap of faith, and you fly 2000 miles south, and do it again, and again.


Is it any wonder then that some birds build rather uncomfortable, flimsy nests that barely qualify as a nest? That appear to be just a bunch of twigs thrown at a branch? Not for the Green Heron a cozy, grass lined pouch swinging gently to and fro in the soft summer breeze while hugging the beautiful little oriole chick inside, safe and warm. Nope! That ain't happening. It's more like  - there's your nest. Don't  like it? Hah! So leave!

The Green Herons' "Kronk!"  is about as rude a call a bird can have- kind of like saying  "Git outtta my way! Here I come with food. Open yer mouth right now!"  And I'm  guessing it's a good thing the babies are so gosh durn cute, or Tired Old Bird (Mom for short)  probably wouldn't even bother feeding them!
Just look at those little eyes...what's not to love!?


David said...

Gotta love them babies!...at least until they grow up.

jabblog said...

Doing it every year, sometimes two or three times every year - thank goodness humans don't have to!