The Nest

Mary Ann

People over the centuries have named their homes.  There is Mt. Vernon or Monticello. Palaces and estates have names like Buckingham and Versailles.  We want to make our homes unique so giving them names make our domiciles very special.  It may be a way for the rich and famous to keep their different homes straight in their minds. 

I have given my townhouse a special name, but in truth the house named itself. When I bought my townhouse, the former owner had a wreath on the front door.  At closing, I got my keys and was so excited to be going home!  Well, I got there, and a house finch had set up housekeeping in the wreath.  We could not use the front door until mama bird fledged her babies.  For six weeks we used the garage to enter the house.  Finally, a For Rent sign appeared on the nest, and we could use the front door. 

For the next 18 months, the house was renovated and shortly afterward, I retired and moved my life to the new house.  My apartment furnishings arrived shortly after my final day at work, and when the movers were moving me in, one of them said, “You have a friend.”  We went outside and right near the front door a female mallard had built a nest in the middle of the pachysandra.  I am sure mama duck thought she had found a quiet place to raise her family.  No one was living in the house.  My townhouse is across the street from a pond.  It was location, location, location. The duck real estate agent did a bait and switch not revealing to Mama Duck that she had a human neighbor.  So once again we avoided using the first door.  However, you could look at her as she was incubating her eggs.  She was so still that I am sure she didn’t think we could see her. 

Fast forward, mama duck did her duty until one day about a month later, the ducklings hatched.  This little brood of ducks moved in a tight formation together around my front porch and driveway.  Mama duck was nowhere to be found.  I called the wildlife center to see if mother ducks left their babies alone.  They told me that they never leave their babies, and that I needed to bring them in for care.   Something happened to mama duck.  I gave it until the next morning in case their mama did come back. 

My nine baby duck guests were still huddled together on the porch the next morning.  My brother and I began catching them and putting them in a box to take them to the wildlife center. Baby ducks are so soft and so cute.  I put a pan of water in the box.  By the time we got to the center, the babies were all in the water.  They just knew what to do.

At the wildlife center, the ducklings were given a chance to safely grow up.  I was given a code to call and check on their progress.  All nine babies made it to adulthood and were released.  In the wild, it would be good if half of them made it.  Mama duck was a good mother and probably gave her life to save her babies.  We got them to the right people so they could grow up.  I did keep the broken light green eggs in a jar, and they are on my shelf of nature artifacts. Sweet reminder!

Since then, I have had nests in planters and gutters and nearby trees.  I am sure you know what I named my house – The Nest!  You probably knew from the title of the blog.   I look forward to seeing where the next nest will appear and am thankful Mother Nature has trusted me enough for birds to make their home at my home.