Birdy and Peeps

I know I should be focused on more important issues like, say, one of today’s New York Times crossword puzzle fill-ins with the clue “Top.”  The answer, of course, is Whirled Piece.

Anyway, getting over that convoluted beginning I actually have a charming vignette to tell about urban (Brooklyn) backyard society.  Last month a robin built a nest in a hanging ivy plant on my back porch and within two weeks there were four eggs, almost a cliché in their wonderful teal color and so faux looking I thought someone had played a trick on me.  But it was the robin that has pulled off the trick and yesterday I became the proud father of a tiny, wide-mouthed chick who, as we speak, is silently beseeching the unknown for succor and sustenance.  A wonder to behold and I’m doing my best not to bother the mother or the chick and to let nature take its course, for good or ill, by not feeding them or otherwise monitoring progress.

I have also tried not to anthropomorphize my avian friends by naming them and, for that matter, resisting the impulse to make a tiny omelet last month.  Truthfully, however, I refer to “my” robin as Birdy and her progeny as Peeps 1, 2, 3 and 4.  Feathers are a good thing and I’m seriously thinking about growing some myself.
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Update:  May 29, 2014