Within the leafy wooded confines of our neighbourhood ravine, we regularly hear the songs of chickadees, nuthatches, woodpeckers, song sparrows, cardinals and robins. On occasion we'll hear bluejays, infrequent visitors in the early spring and fall; they were much more commonly seen and heard years ago. Lately we've seen quite a lot of robins in the ravine. Actually, we see them now often in the winter as well, since many seem not to be devoted to making that long fall trip to southern climes.

The robins are about in surprising numbers now, and presumably they've returned, in the ravine, to places they're familiar with. We often see quite a crowd all together in the fall months. Several weeks ago we were confronted by the fact that a pair of robins was experimenting with a number of half-built nests under the uprights of our deck, just below the floor.

We certainly consider our backyard a serene haven, a place to rest and enjoy the fresh air, and to look about at growing things. But a nesting place for robins? Not very likely. Eventually they seemed to agree with us, and decided to desert the final nest that they'd completed. We felt the constant sound from our going back and forth from the  house onto the deck and then on into the garden, both us and our two little dogs had convinced the pair that their first nesting choice was unsuitable.

And then, we realized that they've returned. And they're using that nest, that we might have disassembled but didn't, to sit on eggs. Already this morning Jillie barked at one of the robins and the other deserted the nest. To return, we're now convinced until their instinctive parenthood duties have been fulfilled.

Sssuusshhhh!