I find it difficult to tear myself away from the kitchen window these days. This little "drama" is one I've never witnessed before and perhaps never will again.
I discovered that there are four little ones - not three. Every once in a while huge heads on reedy necks rise up from the depths of the nest. Impossibly big mouths open wide - they have an insatiable appetite.
Yesterday, one of the things I feared might happen did. The wind began blowing in earnest. Those babies have had a wild ride - sometimes spinning, sometimes rocking back and forth in an ever widening arch. I watch in alarm, waiting for them to tumble out of the nest.
Papa has joined in the care and feeding of the little ones, much to my relief. I thought perhaps he was one of those "dandies" and was going to leave all the work to Mama.
I am learning some life lessons from these seemingly fragile creatures. The wind buffets their nest, and they don't fly around in circles of desperation. They aren't chirping shrilly at the heavens asking where God is when, after all, He promised to watch over every bit of creation. They haven't enlisted an army of cardinals to come to their rescue and help still the wild pitching and spinning. They simply keep doing what they know to do - trusting that all will be well.
After all, there are four hungry mouths to be filled.