One of my favorite things about spring is the return of the house finches, which build a nest and raise a little family on my front door wreath.
I am treated to a bird’s eye view of tiny life coming into the world.
As some of you know from previous posts, the finches built the nest last year but never laid any eggs. It was haunting, coinciding with the onset of the COVID-19 shutdown. Barrenness. Emptiness. Loss.
They are making up for it this year.
Mama Finch laid five eggs during Holy Week; usually there are only three or four.
They’ve all hatched now and more pictures will be forthcoming, but here are the first two babies.
For the record, the collective noun for finches is a charm or a trembling.
A trembling charm of tiny new life upon my house:
For Day Twenty of National Poetry Month, a haiku:
Nature has her charms
Gifts of fragile new songbirds