As we drove home from Mount Vernon a couple weekends ago, we took a detour through St. Matthew Cemetery, off Tile Factory Road, to admire the stone sculptures that serve as memorials for those buried there. A favorite is Mary with her arm wrapped around the cross.
Driving through the cemetery, we noticed birds had chosen some of the headstones for nests. We found this odd. We drive through cemeteries on a somewhat regular basis to see the various headstones, especially older or more ornate ones, and had never noticed such aviary habits.
What is it about St. Matthews Cemetery that makes it a desirable location for these birds, Robins, to nest there? There are no trees for shade or protection, and many of the nests were built so close to the ground that we could peer in and see the eggs. Perhaps it’s the quiet solitude. Cemeteries don’t get frequent visitors, and those who visit are often very reserved. The birds probably don’t see them as a threat.
As we were leaving the cemetery, we noticed one bird on a nest. This bird had a particular strained and strange appearance. As we looked around, we noticed others with similar expressions and in similar positions. We decided perhaps, on this day, Saturday, May 22, these robins were laying their eggs.
Further research told me that, though Robins do lay between April and August, and often lay two-to-three clutches a year, they only lay one egg a day, and it’s usually in mid-morning. Also, Robins will normally lay until there are four eggs.
We got the opportunity to peer inside one nest, and there were three eggs, probably about three inches long. Odds are, one was laid earlier that morning, and another was laid the following morning, rounding out her clutch.
Most of the research I’ve done about the birds and their eggs since Saturday indicates these birds are Robins, which is what we thought when we saw them. However, laying eggs without the protection of a shade tree or ledge of some sort doesn’t seem to match the habits of Robins. And there might be more different kinds of birds nesting in the cemetery.
Whatever kind of bird, I’m glad they’ve chosen St. Matthew as a home, and I’m glad we got the opportunity to witness their habits and their beautiful eggs Saturday.
Hopefully, anyone who visits St. Matthews will respect the birds and their nesting space and not get too close when the birds are nesting. I only stayed long enough to snap one or two photos of the eggs, and I didn’t get close enough to the nesting birds to get anything great.
As if our encounter with the birds wasn’t enough, before we got home for good, we saw what I’ve come to think of as a summer snow.
Later Saturday afternoon, in New Harmony, near the Atheneum, showers of small white puffs could be seen floating to the ground. I’ve since been told this was due to the cottonwood trees in the area and is a phenomena that runs throughout the spring and into summer.
The seeds of the cottonwood, the Eastern Cottonwood in this instance, are contained in a cottony mass that is easily airborne. The seeds are tiny – a small fraction of an inch.
The New Harmony area must be filled with the cottonwood, because these seeds were falling like a fluffy snow. The sunlight and cottony seeds transformed the already beautiful Wabash riverbank area into a scene almost magical.
I even saw some in Mount Vernon Monday morning.
This weekend’s experiences showed me that sometimes, the hugeness of existence is most apparent in the smallest things.
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