While the majority of spring migrants are still working their way north, many of New England’s year-round birds are already getting down to the business of nesting.

I’m sure I’ll see plenty of nesting activity as the spring progresses, but last week I witnessed two interesting scenes related to nesting. 

The first was in my backyard. As I approached one of my birdfeeders to throw in a handful of safflower seed, I noticed a northern flicker dart off into the woods. Its white rump patch gave away its identification. I was fairly certain the flicker had been clinging to a topped-off dead tree a dozen or so yards away from the feeder, and I made a note to approach the feeder more carefully next time.

Sure enough, I returned half an hour later and found a flicker on the same snag. I kept my distance this time and watched as the flicker worked on hollowing out a hole in the snag. I observed for a few minutes and went back into the house.

Over the next several days, I watched a male and female flicker take turns hollowing out the hole. It was slow-going, but the flickers kept at it dutifully. I’ll continue to watch the progress, and, hopefully, the flickers will successfully build a nest there and raise young. That would make for an interesting spring and summer in my yard.

Watching how slow the progress was and how much work the flickers put into making the cavity, I have new respect for woodpeckers and how difficult the job of securing the future of the species is. I also see why so many birds and animals utilize old woodpecker holes for their own nesting purposes. The hard construction work has already been done.

I read that flickers are uncommon among woodpeckers in that they often reuse cavities from the previous year. I don’t blame them. I can’t imagine doing that every year.

From that hopeful scene to one a bit darker: I was sitting in my office when I noticed movement through the window. The motion stopped in a tangle of vines where the parking lot and woods meet. I lifted my binoculars (yes, I have a pair at the office) and spotted a robin sitting in a nest. I was excited and concerned at the same time. While the nest itself was pretty well hidden, it was right at the edge of the woods and fairly obvious with the bird in the nest.

I watched a male and female come and go throughout the day and even shared the news with some co-workers. Even while I thought about how neat it would be to have a flicker nesting at my home and nesting robins visible through my window at work, I remained cautiously optimistic about the robins.

Later in the afternoon, I saw a blur flash past my window. By this time, a car in the lot had blocked part of my view of the vines where the nest had been built. I had a feeling what the blur was, but hoped I was wrong.

I stood, and my fears were realized. A red-shouldered hawk was standing on the nest tearing it apart. The robins took a few swipes at the hawk, but the larger bird of prey hardly seemed to notice. 

The robins, of course, abandoned the nest and haven’t returned. Thankfully, it’s still very early in the season, and the robins can try again–hopefully, in a better place next time. 

I was confused about the encounter. The obvious conclusion is that the hawk raided the nest to eat the eggs. However, I don’t think the robins had eggs in the nest yet. I had just noticed the robins for the first time that day. Surely, since it was in direct sight of my office window, I would have noticed the robins building the nest prior to that day.

Then why would the hawk go after the nest like that? Maybe it attacked the nest in the hopes that there would be eggs or baby birds in it and came up empty. Or perhaps it was a territorial message, as red-shouldered hawks do nest on the property.

Regardless of the reason, I wish the robins luck with their next attempt. I also wish the hawk luck on its next quest for food. And, of course, I wish the flickers luck in their nesting season.