They’re back!

We woke up one day last week to the sound of tapping on the front window.

Oh, how cute! A papa robin thinking he had found his woman in his own reflection in my multi-paned front bow window. This search for his mate went on for nearly two weeks until, apparently, she arrived, belly full of eggs and needing a home just under the eaves on our front porch – and, by the way, too close to the front door for my liking. He should have been concentrating on building a home for his lady instead of beating his little bird brain out. She’s going to have her wings full with this character.

Until she arrived, his constant pecking nearly drove me to distraction. I would make my own motions on my side of the window, hoping to scare him off. That only annoyed him for a moment, and he was right back at it. I finally resorted to hanging sheets of paper in each window, blocking his view of himself, but I didn’t cover the entire window and he kept on pecking. Would you stop already? The cuteness wore off after the second day.

By now the windows are a complete mess, and I’m not about to venture out to clean them until I’m sure he’s done being in love with himself. However, I did venture out and, much to my disgust, found he not only was pecking and drooling all over our windows, he was pooping on the brick windowsill. Terrific. Pecking and pooping. Geez, enough already!

I hung a wind chime nearby, thinking that might scare him off. I think he finds it charming or something. He’s still there. We decided against hanging the flag until he’s done with his shenanigans. I’ve never tried laundering an American flag and am not sure what the protocol is regarding that. I usually hang a decorative springtime wreath at the front door, but that’s on hold for now. That would just give him building material for the little lady.

It’s not like there are no other places for birds to establish their summer home. We have plenty of trees within easy flying distance from our front door, although I must admit, with the winds we’ve been having, they are probably safer under our eaves. Once they kick the babies out of the nest, they’ll move on and we can enjoy our own front porch for the season. I hope.

Last year it was an oriole. At least the oriole is a beautiful bird, and I could understand his preening in our window. The female isn’t quite as good-looking. But who am I to judge? He made just as big a mess of my windows as this year’s robin.

I shouldn’t speak harshly about our feathered friends. They could join with the starlings and swarm my house. Then I’d have something to complain about. Or those horrid blackbirds Alfred Hitchcock used in that terrifying movie, “The Birds.” That movie is probably the underlying reason for my not being in love with birds, especially swarming, cawing birds. Just writing this gives me the willies.

I should turn my attention to the sweet little hummingbirds that should be on their way back to Ohio pretty soon. I’ll set out a feeder for them, as well as for the oriole in case he decides to return. But recalling how the oriole likes to see himself in our windows, I’d better rethink just where I’ll place the feeder.

I shouldn’t complain. My brother had two turkeys at his sliding glass door last week. And I thought my little robin made a mess. As far as I’m concerned, turkeys belong on a platter. And don’t get me started on the Canada goose.