Me and Mrs. C.
We have been neighbors for many years. Cedric and Cecelia Cardinal (as I have come to call them) immediately distinguished themselves from the mass of ordinary, noisy sparrows, and the occasional wren. I remember years ago being delighted at their presence in the urban density that is south Minneapolis.
As the years went by and they continued to flit in and out of my yard, I developed a special relationship with Mrs. C. She seemed particularly unphased by my presence and we would actually visit a bit while I weeded, she perched on the fence chirping with that distinguishable peep I had come to know and love.
This spring, when Mr. and Mrs. C again made their presence known, I did a bit of research and learned that the average lifespan of a northern cardinal can be between 15 and 25 years. I also learned that they mate for life. This warmed my heart to realize that Cedric and Cecelia were likely the same pair I had seen over at least the past five plus years.
A week or so ago, I noticed Mrs. C. with a twig in her beak. Being that it was the end of June, I was a bit baffled. Shouldn’t nesting time be past? More research revealed that pairs can produce 2-3 clutches in a year (I had to learn the term clutch as I wanted to call it a litter). I became fixated with where the nest was – there are usually quite a few nests here and there around my house and it is fun to see the creativity with which these little birds choose their locations.
I was a bit surprised, then, to see her dart into the barberry bush – a thorny, short shrub only about 6 feet high. As I watched, the bush vibrated as she made the tell-tale movement of shaping the next. Then she flew out, only to return a few minutes later with another twig.
Since I tend to worry about my little wild friends, I immediately thought: “what a terrible place for a nest! I need to mow over there! She’s going to find that this was a terrible mistake.”
I did more reading. Apparently low-lying shrubs are the location of choice for these guys. I then started to rationalize: she’s been my neighbor for years – she knows I mow the lawn once a week, dogs bark, cats prowl, and I will be over there to weed every once and awhile. That barberry is actually perfect in terms of deterrence and camouflage.
We had a brief discussion after I mowed and hurriedly yanked out parts of an extremely invasive vine that I cannot allow to flourish underneath the barberry. She registered her annoyance. I explained I would be out momentarily.
I worried I had disrupted the process.
A few hours later, I was lucky enough to see her fly in with yet some more nesting material.
It will be fine. Nature has a way of working itself out. Let’s hope the rest of the world can do likewise.