During the summer in June, I discovered a little robin’s nest in the tree in front of my house. I found four blue eggs laying inside the nest. About a week later the babies had hatched into pink, veiny, squishy, baby robins. The robin’s had little tufts of white hair at the top of their head. The fourth egg hadn’t hatched yet so I patiently waited for the fourth baby. Every day I checked how the robin’s were doing and taking pictures while the mother wasn’t around. As the days passed I was beginning to think that fourth egg was sadly, a dud. One afternoon I was checking on the robin’s, now starting to grow feathers, and to my horror, the mother was watching me from a neighboring tree. It starting screeching at me, then started flying around trying to peck at me. I ran into my garage…no more bird-watching today.

A few days passed and I thought it be good if I check on the robin’s one last time. When I put the camera through the tree, three black and white feathered robins sprung out of their nest and hopped away. They were all grown up now, they didn’t need their mother and father anymore. The year before there was another robin rest in the same tree. I didn’t take photos like I did with the last bunch. There were three robin babies and they had grown black and white feathers. I sometimes just peeked through the leaves to get a look at them. One morning, I woke up and had my breakfast as usual, then I walked over to the window to see if anything was happening, then to my horror, I saw one of the baby robins laying on the porch, pieces of the nest were spread out around the robin, with it’s neck ripped wide open with blood streaming from all directions. The nest was empty, but luckily the other babies had matured and flown off. I suspect the culprit was an owl, crow, or bluejay. All I’m certain is that nature is cruel.