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  • Writer's pictureBruce Siebold

Songs Never Heard

For several days I watched the robins as they built their nest in the shrub near our patio. They gathered dry grasses and leaves, pieces of grape vines, small twigs, and then decorated it with strips of blue tarp they tore from my firewood cover. Soon the eggs were laid. But, five days later the nest was suddenly abandoned. I don't know why the mother never returned to warm her eggs. Maybe she felt unsafe as other birds had moved into her space. Maybe she was unable to keep the eggs warm during the freezing nights. But in my heart I felt sadness knowing the songs of these three robins will never be heard.

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