Something ate our baby robins!
Most likely, a big crow feasted on them. We stand there by the nest, so saddened. We wonder if the mother is sad. Does she mourn? What does she do now?
We realize it’s the way of nature; sometimes, this happens.
The birds shall build another nest in another location and hope for the best. They’ve already left the yard to create a new life elsewhere.
We think about how fragile life is and how precarious. To think of little eggs atop sticks and grass! To think of helpless baby birds growing against a backdrop of storms and cold nights with hungry snakes and crows and owls and chipmunks! How does any bird survive at all?
Every bird is suddenly a miracle to see. You made it! You made it here alive!