Nature has hard moments. I have been closely following the sparrow nest in my mailbox, as it's opening is almost face level when I enter and exit using the front door of my house. First there was a nest that miraculously appeared in one day. Next there was a tiny brown speckled egg. Then another, And another. Over six days, six potential little baby birds were delivered by an easily startled momma. Six babies!! I felt compelled to do something to help her besides not use the front door. Last week I bought bird seed, the kind that sparrows would like, and put out a little bowl on the railing. At least I could help with feeding, I thought.
The first night, no one touched the seed. Same with the next night. The third day it was mostly gone. The fourth morning, it was empty, the cup violently thrown to the ground. Seeds everywhere. As I left for work, I checked the eggs and momma and crossed my fingers. I did not expect to come home to a very different scene.
Peeking in the nest at 3:30, I found the nest destroyed. No momma, and sadly, no eggs. Gone. And I feel that it is my fault for putting out the seed. I am heartsick at the loss for this tiny little momma sparrow who so painstakingly made a pile of eggs bigger than her own tiny body. By trying to help, I inadvertently called attention to her nest, and caused its destruction. I feel sick about it. Nature is nature, and there is another animal happy to have found half a dozen eggs for lunch, but still. I caused this. I try to mediate the anguish by saying "at least they were'nt hatched yet," and "maybe momma can make a new nest and do it again." Still, I feel badly.
Tim has suggested I put up a bird house so there is a dry, secure place for the next momma that wants to be under my overhang. One with a sparrow sized opening, not a squirrel (or worse) sized opening. I could see a little shelf up there to the right of my door with three prettily painted bird houses, matching the house so they camouflage a bit. All I'd need are a couple of brackets attached to the house, and the rest could be a separate unit to come out every spring. The height would be above my head so as not to startle mommas. I know that I need to DO SOMETHING to remedy the bad energy I've created by helping in such a stupid way.
Nature is hard sometimes.
Update...in searching for a photo to match my sadness overt this incident, I came across this article by a sparrow-hating bird enthusiast that describes this type of bird as being a territorial, malicious, home-wrecking nightmare on the natural population of wild birds. And this article says similar horrible truths. Did you know sparrows are considered an invasive species? The mean acts that these little things are capable of, if this article is to be believed, include pecking a nesting bluebird momma to death as she sits on her eggs, and then building a nest right on top, and also visiting other birds nest and poking holes in all the eggs (not taking them for food.) Ok, now, I get it. The sparrows are like the kid in class that acts out to another student, then can't understand it when someone retaliates. Nature getting even in my mailbox, I guess. At least I feel better. Better enough to think twice about sparrow boxes, I think.
Although I did read that sparrow mommas can have four broods a year...hmmm...to be continued.