The Battle of Dogwood Tree or Robin-Home Defense
Posted by Rey
June 1863: General Robert E. Lee, upon receiving news that Federal forces were in Frederick (Maryland), ordered the Confederate Army to come down from Blue Ridge Mountains to meet the Feds in battle. On June 30th, Lee’s recon forces discover that Gettysburg (Pennsylvania) is already occupied by Brigadier General John Buford’s cavalry, dismounted, frightened, resolved and entrenched. 143 years later the battle between the Robins and myself, like Gettysburg, happened completely by accident.
I have long known about the Robin nest in the Dogwood Tree on my front lawn. Whenever my mower passes by they get frantic, chirping pointedly yet incoherently. I have taken to alerting them of my mowing with soft words the night before doing any lawn work–even though they completely ignore me. Last night was no different, me whispering, “it’s going to be fine tomorrow, I need to get under there and cut that high grass.”¯ I know they might be part of the Enemy Bug Offensive, but I must show Them respect.
So I mowed the huge backyard, the edging, around the bushes, the front lawn–saving their tree for last. Sure they chirped, but I respected their privacy, mowing on the opposite side of the tree, far from their low nest.
I might know why they picked the area. Leafy and offering a nice mix of shade and protection from the passing eye, the Dogwood Tree stands alone. Not high enough to prove a nuisance when finding lawn worms and not low enough to be endangered by neighborhood critters, it is draped in security. Even so, it is my property and though they get quite raucous when I’m mowing, I must complete my duty as both steward of the land and homeowner.
The task had come. I lowered my hat to avoid well aimed poop. I lowered my head to avoid nest and branch. I put the motor into gear and starting cutting–then a Robin swooped at my head. Then another. Hitchcock’s movie leapt into my mind as I fled from both tree and mower.
Why were they attacking? I asked as my eye focused on the one small Robin floundering on the lawn. I hadn’t counted on that. The young bird was old enough to hear my mower, become terrified and jump out of the nest despite not knowing how to fly. I could see his mother frantically fluttering about, yet I could also see seven or eight robins diving (“My God, they called their family.”¯) toward me.
I locked my door. Out through the screen mesh I could see the baby bird looking around nervously as Robins perched on the mower and others dove up toward my house and yet another hopped up and down on the lawn trying to figure out what to do. Adjusting my hat, donning some gloves and steeling my resolve I told myself that my stewardship extended to the Robins: I had to go help.
I told my son to grab a bat and play scarecrow.
Out we went, my son yelling “Oy!” (which I stole from Australians since I love how silly it sounds coming from Americans) and me with a Plan. I will put my hand on the baby bird, and place him back in his nest. I will be a Hero.
I got near the baby bird and we made eye contact. He was nervous–so was I. The Robins were swooping back and forth but my son’s blue flailing bat kept them at bay. There was just too much Big People for them to handle. Courage up, I grabbed the baby bird.
Suddenly, Momma Robin dove at me, slapping at my hands and screeching. Papa Robin dove from the tree heights, soaring toward me–they had thrown caution to the wind and were now fighting for their family. I jumped back, telling my son to go back inside and Papa Robin flew back to the tree as his wife stayed near her child daring me to come closer with an oh so sharp beak.
While I tried to think how to save the baby bird, I nervously counted the robins that were swooping about. I noticed that really, only one was consistent in coming near me. Most of them kept launching themselves at the tree while one sleek defender kept fending off their attacks. It dawned on me that the Dogwood Tree was now being marked as Available Nesting Property. After all, what’s the use of the Robin family keeping their nest if it was now empty? The Head of Nest wasn’t having it and protected the tree from their immediate threat and only dove toward me when Momma’s scream would raise me on his priority list.
Meanwhile the baby robin was hopping off into the street. With a valiant yet awkward effort at flying I knew he wouldn’t survive. I walked up to him then and stopped the diving Robins with a cruel yell. Mother perched on the nearby bush likely crying. Father protected the tree again realizing that he couldn’t do much against me.
I dropped my hat.
Momma jumped to the street, begging and screeching, realizing that her son was trapped. Father soared at me again and dropped on the ground–the tree completely unprotected.
“You guys don’t come near me.” I said as I slipped a piece of paper under the hat. They didn’t know what to make of it: their only child was being kidnapped and there was nothing they could do to stop it. But I was doing no such thing. I carried their child back to the nest and carefully, gently, placed him back in.
He was confused, no doubt so were they. Once the child was in his nest and his parents flew back to the tree, hopping about and yelling at me and my giant-like awkwardness (to them anyway–I am only 5′ 6″), the rest of the Robins (I mentally called them the Sackville-Robinses) flew back to their high trees or rooftops and grumbled.
I called to the Robins then. I would leave their tree alone until their child learns how to fly. They don’t understand and words fail them–but their violent glares speak clearly.
Pictures, of course, to come
here.
14 Responses to “The Battle of Dogwood Tree or Robin-Home Defense”
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June 16th, 2006 at 10:08 pm
The best part of the story was when you finally admitted to being an inch shorter than me.
Terrifying story that couldn’t possibly have a happy ending. Glad it seems to, so far. It takes a village of Robins(and sometimes a human) to raise a child, eh? Hopefully they still feed it…I’ve heard once they have human scent they’re rejected, but you used your hat and a piece of paper and not your bare hands, so maybe it will be ok.
How wide are the tree branches, and does your lawn currently go right to the trunk, or is there some space around it? It might be a good idea to put a border around the tree, maybe 1-2 feet around, separated from the lawn by rocks or stonework or seashells. Get rid of the grass around the tree within this barrier and make it a flower bed or simply soil. Rounded stonework is best for mowing I find–my mom has one around her red maple and it’s a great guide when I cut the grass around there. On the other hand, she has other sections lined with seashells, including the area by our dogwood. It looks pretty and all, but it makes edging difficult and I’ve occasionally destroyed seashells by crossing the barrier with the mower, looking to make sure no one saw me, then respacing the surviving shells to fill the gap. In your case the round concrete divider is probably the best solution, unless it’s a really wide tree.
June 17th, 2006 at 7:53 am
[The exact location where Rey lives] sounds like a scary, dangerous place…
June 17th, 2006 at 9:49 am
Classic. Nothing funnier than being attacked by robins defending their turf! I can’t wait to see pictures. I loved the “Oy!” part! Very funny.
I thought you lived in NY for some reason.
June 17th, 2006 at 3:03 pm
Yeah Wendy, I used to live in NY but then moved to the Rural. And thanks to Jerry revealing where in the rural I can now expect to be killed where no one will find my body.
MCF, I’m still taller than you. Even when I can’t remember my exact height. And the lawn comes right up to about 1.5″ from the tree trunk. I can’t lay down that much mulch beneath the spreading branches because, like you said, it is very wide and it’ll make my lawn look like the desolate waste of Oroduin.
Re: Baby Bird Rescue, most birds don’t have a sense of smell so putting the thing back in a nest or bush is usually fine with most of birds.
June 17th, 2006 at 9:09 pm
Well PA is rural. I lived there for a year after NY before coming down to VA.
June 18th, 2006 at 12:00 am
CLASSIC Tato storytelling. I love how you recruited young Sy to be a young cadet in this Battle w/ the Birds. Bravo dear brother and by all means, award that loving nephew of mine a medal!
June 18th, 2006 at 11:46 am
Yvong, I was hoping you’d like the Civil War Ref. I’m also sure you’d probaby correct my history being a Civil War buf and all.
June 19th, 2006 at 8:46 am
first: holy crap dude, you, like, live in a park! i can’t believe how big and beautiful your “backyard” is!
second: freaky beetles, horrible sickness, insane dancing children, herds of attacking robins… just keep up the happy endings, ok?
June 21st, 2006 at 11:43 am
Oh my, that was just too funny!! How sweet of you to take such care though ;). I really enjoyed it, I’m visiting from the Christian Carnival ;).
June 21st, 2006 at 12:52 pm
Welcome to my nook, Lisa. Thanks for dropping by.
May 10th, 2007 at 11:01 pm
[...] sure when it started (was it the incursion into my open kitchen, was it the mowing under their Dogwood…who knows) but I do know that the escalation has been [...]
June 24th, 2007 at 1:37 pm
[...] site where he proves to Rebecca that he knows what a bird looks like—especially when it’s flapping toward him. Yes, that would be nervous [...]
June 30th, 2008 at 11:00 am
WHAT KIND OF FRAGRANCE /IF ANY, DOES THE DOES THE DOGWOOD TREE HAVE.
July 11th, 2008 at 7:27 am
They have a slight citrusy smell, sort of like Psidium Guajava.