After The Flood-- A New Perspective On Rainstorms

Remember a few posts back when I was wondering what effect the torrential downpour over the last few days would have on the robins' nests in our study? Well, we found out yesterday and today. The rainstorm was catastrophic for a large number of nests. At our ritzy site, named Gough, we found one nest with a single fledgeling and two dead nest mates. This is unusual and indicates how horrific the storm was for the robins. At our Baltimore site we found one unsheltered nest with three dead nestlings under it. Their bodies were intact, so they perished in the rain and were tossed out by their parents, not depredated. When we had visited the same nest during a break in the rain Saturday one fledgeling had still remained out of the original four. We found it dead today.

At our Mara site, in our Takoma Park neighborhood, both of the nests due to fledge in the next few days were without nestlings. One had a single egg in it, possibly indicating the parents are re-nesting in the same spot, which would be atypical but not impossible.

Nonetheless, some nests survived. Those with good overhead shelter, provided by branches or a building (such as building a nest on a door under the roof as featured in a previous post) tended to do better than those more exposed. One nest was that was quite exposed revealed four thriving nestlings; it is likely the hardy parents sheltered these young with their bodies during the storm.

The impact of the storm has touched me deeply. For most of my life, rain has been a minor inconvenience. A small bother, a slight hassle, a tad dreary and at times depressing, but certainly not life threatening. What is a slight nuisance to me is a major event in the life of a robin, especially a young robin less than two weeks old still in the nest, or a robin parent trying to shelter and feed young. It is also a more major event in the life of someone doing research, for we fretted about the outcome of our nests and wondered how they were faring as the rain continued to flow like a broken fire hydrant. It's one of the things I like most about being on this project-- it puts me more in tune with the natural rhythms and experiences. I experience firsthand the cold of night, and the renewal and joy that comes with sunrise. I stand outside wet in the rain and watch robins, shivering alongside them, trying to find shelter under a tree to stay dry. Modern life removes us so much from the primal experiences of nature. This research is one small way I can come a little more back into tune with them, and imagine a bit more what life is like for a wild animal.

(Note: There are no pictures. I didn't have the heart to photograph the flies feeding on the bodies of the dead nestlings, or the empty, waterlogged nests that got almost completely degraded in the rain.)