Predation on Alexander

The blur of black splashed across my peripheral vision. The squawking cries of the jay piqued my interest. They’re back, visiting the site of the atrocity, the scene of the crime, the marauders returning to the kill zone.

I live in what I consider a much gentrified, suburban section of Westfield where the manicured lawns are always green and plush from the incessant watering and the bushes and shrubs are meticulously trimmed and shaped. When I think of predation, images of wildebeests being mercilessly dragged to the ground by hungry lions or a zebra being ripped apart in a crocodile’s death roll immediately come to mind. Predation in Westfield? Oh yeah it happened, on Alexander!

Several weeks ago I got a text message from my wife that a bird brawl broke out in our front yard. Robins vs. Jays … not baseball, birds! The robins built a nest in the crab apple tree in our front yard. Awesome construction quality, very poor site selection … far too low in the branch, so low I could easily reach up and touch the nest standing directly beneath the bough. I sensed vulnerability.

The jays and robins were screaming at each other and my wife went outside to break up the fight. Robins defending their turf, protecting the little ones in the nest from what she perceived as the aggressive blue jays she speculated. After a brief respite however, the yelling and screaming started up again. Shriller tones, different intensity, and higher frequency of distress … the ravens had descended upon the tree, one in the tree above the nest, one at the nest’s edge. The young robins were hauled away like the flying monkeys scooping up Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. I am certain the ending for the baby robins was considerable different than that of the Dorothy and her little dog!

Relative peace returned to our modest property of just under one acre surrounded by fairly dense woods that provide the illusion of country isolation when the foliage is plush. Despite the harsh realities of life and death playing out in the front yard, a pair of robins successfully nested under our deck off the rear of the house. The deck stands about twelve feet off the group and the nest location was perfect. Several years before, robins nested in the same location and successfully produced multiple generations of hatchlings. I watched the family of four baby birds grow to the point where half of their little bodies protruded above the top of the nest. Fledging was very near! All was well. Until it wasn’t.

One evening the birds were fine. The next morning the nest was on its side on the ground and no birds could be found except for a portion of a wing on the top step on the deck. Something struck during the night. Body parts marked the site of more predation.

Several weeks passed and to my surprise the robins are at it again, this time in the cone shaped dwarf spruce just outside our front door. I am unsure if it is the same couple who suffered the raven attack earlier in the season. This looks and feels like a great location to raise a new brood of American robins but … do the ravens know?

The flash of peripheral black I experienced while I sat in my office overlooking the front yard was a raven revisiting the robin’s nest in the crab apple tree plundered earlier in the spring. Did they expect the nest to be refilled? Can they sense the presence of baby robins someplace in the yard?

I’m concerned. It seems predation has taken up residence on Alexander this summer!