The robins built a nest at my neighbors’ house in the crook that attaches the downspout to the gutter. It seems like just a couple of weeks ago that we were looking at cute, fuzzy heads bobbling frantically above the edge of their nest with bills agape, wanting worms.
My neighbor mentioned a couple of days ago that the nest seemed to be empty, and she wanted to clean up around it—they had created the kind of mess babies are best at.
Meanwhile, the parental activity level was getting more frenetic in my yard, and I have been hearing the frantic calls of famished fledglings. I ran across one of the babies while deadheading.
Admittedly the photograph is not as sharp as it could be, but if I had stood there fiddling around, it would be a photograph of an empty perch recently used by a fledgling robin.