A nest tragedy creates a passionate birder

By Annette Litle

It all began with a terrible accident. My husband and I were pruning a camellia that should have been tended to in the fall. As we were picking up the debris to compost, we found a nest on the ground with four screaming nestlings, eyes still unopened.

Horrified, panicked, and crying, with gloved hands I carefully lifted the nest back into the bush. I held vigil to see if the parents would come back, but there was no sign of them. I stayed away from the nest for the next few days in hopes that nature could recover from my carelessness. Finally I checked and the nest was empty.

My sadness at the loss of these babies caused me to start viewing things differently. I began looking in my backyard.

Through the ensuing years, I watched and waited to see who would come visit and perhaps take up residence. One day I spotted an American Robin perched on the fence with a big juicy worm in its beak. Seeing all was safe, she flew into one of our trees to feed her babies. Only then did I hear them. How could a nest have been there all along, right in front of me with wailing babies, and I had still not noticed?

Learning to be quiet opened up a new world of wonder, teaching me how to look and listen for the birds. For a week my kids and I sat quietly watching the robin fly back and forth caring for the nestlings. It was so exciting to experience this new life materializing in our own backyard. I came outside one morning to check on the robins, only to find the nest had been torn to shreds, one of the babies dead on the ground.  A raccoon, maybe?

Again, I was stricken with sadness. This tragedy became an opportunity to teach myself and my children about the importance of respecting our urban wildlife, and about how difficult it is for birds to survive in the city with its predators, including humans. We also worked on letting go of the busy bustle of chores, school and work — all the things that prevent us from experiencing the wonder that is hidden, just slightly, from our eyes and ears.

Next season, I saw some of the activity I had been waiting for. A new bird showed up, busily caring for its nest and young in my mayten tree. I looked online to identify this black, glossy yellow-eyed beauty — a Brewer’s Blackbird.

Then I decided to try to identify other birds I saw regularly in the garden. My hummingbird is a male Anna’s Hummingbird. The cheery, noisy racket waking me up in the morning came from House Finches visiting my feeder.

I was hooked. It was so enjoyable to learn their names, songs and habits. We all celebrated as the blackbird babies grew into fledglings foraging on our patio and practicing their flying skills. The last baby to leave we named Peanut.

That year I found two other nests left behind after the season was over, and began photographing them. I have worked with architects as an interior designer, and what struck me about these nests was their beauty and practicality. The choices of materials and varied construction methods are wondrous. Today many human architects strive for sustainability and environmentally-friendly construction methods, but birds have been master architects of green design and building since before humans set foot on this continent.

That nest tragedy a few years ago ultimately led me to a new passion – for birds.  Not only do I love to watch them, but the exquisite and varied design of their nests has inspired a body of work for me as a photographer.   I recently joined Golden Gate Bird Alliance and attended my first field trip in June on Telegraph Hill.  It was very rewarding and I look forward to more birding experiences in the coming year.

As I write this piece, four newly-fledged Dark-eyed Juncos hop around my patio bird feeder.  My perspective is different now, and I hope to continue to grow in knowledge and experience as a birder. At first, I looked at birds as welcome tenants in my garden, but now I see myself as a lucky guest in their kingdom.

EDITOR’S NOTE: To avoid disturbing nests, please trim your trees and bushes in the fall or winter, not during spring nesting season! GGBA recently received a grant to do educational outreach to arborists about protection of nests.

————————–

Annette Litle is a designer, photographer and mother of four children.  She lives with her husband, children and their rescue greyhound in the West Portal district of San Francisco.  Annette’s love and advocacy for animals began with greyhound rescue seven years ago when the family adopted their first hound.  They have adopted a second hound and have begun to foster for the rescue group as well.  With her passion for animals newly expanded to birds, she plans to participate in GGBA environmental projects to help create safe places for birds.  Her photography (including her nest series) can be seen at http://www.annettelitlephotography.com/home.