Robin

I have a robin in the back part of the old barn.  She has a nest with three chicks in it on the wall under the eave.  There are three other nests between other rafters, so looks as if it’s a traditional location.  Trouble is whenever I go in there she flees into the barn instead of towards the outside, then batters herself against the window trying to escape from me.  This is terribly alarming for me, a big racket that surprises me every time, and a horror that she will break her beak against the glass and orphan her chicks, when I was just going for a rake.  It’s better these days now that she’s feeding them instead of sitting on them; we don’t meet as often.  I remember better now too to tiptoe in and out instead of barging in.  Sometimes I can see her tail sticking out of the nest and then I just wait for her to leave, so we’re living together much better.  The chicks are genetically engineered to hunker and go mute when there are invaders, but a couple times I’ve caught them give’n’ r with the wide mouths screeching for mama.  Cute.  Long necks.

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