Nature Sucks

Let that title be your trigger warning. This is not a story with a happy ending. 

We had started so brightly. I noticed a nest twigs tangled in the vines of our chocolate vine plant. Being as non-invasive as I could, I reached up with my phone and took a photo. Five tiny eggs! We were both so excited. Dumb, naïve younger us.

We saw the parents. Two house finches, ChatGPT and I figured. We welcomed them to our bird AirB&B. We had hosted a family last year in our more gothic accommodation.

This family had brought their own house, which was innovative.

We kept watch, non-obtrusively, and made sure the bird feeders were well-stocked. We were five-star hosts.

Then we saw that five eggs had turned into five chicks. Weird, alien, fluffy little monsters that their parents loved (I imagine) and we were proud to host. Bird-food rations were doubled, and the dogs did an excellent job of patrolling the grounds around the nest.

The dreams we had. We would host this family every year. Word would get around. We’d need more vines and more posts to wrap them around. We’d need to install cameras. Maybe we’d livestream.

There’s that saying about not counting unhatched chickens. Well, that saying imparts a false sense of security. Because those eggs had hatched and we’d counted them. Five. We had not named them, which is unusual for us. And probably just as well.

Something happened. When my wife sent me a text saying, “The kids have gone”, I thought she meant the dogs had gone outside, giving us a blessed, rare moment of calm. Then came the photo of the nest. The naked, empty nest. And that bad-news-lump-of-lead feeling settled in.

We don’t know what actually happened. The rains came – Texas was flooded. The winds blew and then the rains came again. Were they blown away? Washed away? Was that possible? Were there snakes? Rodents? Other birds?

Nature, we agreed, sucked.

And then we started planning our security upgrades for next year.