On this day, May 18th, 2017, in the early hours of the day, amid the falling snow and cold, a baby robin was born. As evidenced by its mother’s house cleaning, the eggshell—a possible source of odor and attractant for unwanted guests—was plucked from a cup made of grasses and mud and dropped some distance away… right here along the path of our morning stroll. We know the hatching was successful on account of the relatively smooth break in the egg’s shell along the wide, bottom end. Eggs that are eaten by nest predators will be broken in other ways: a bird depredating a nest will often chisel a hole in the side of an egg in order to eat the yolk or chick, whereas a mammal dining on omelettes will crunch the shell up in all sorts of irregular, fractured ways. I must confess, it made me smile a little when I saw the eggshell lying there in the gravel in the state that it was… SOOOOO…. Happy birthday kiddo!
A Robin is Born!
