The dilemma of the empty nest

Lots of Baby Boomers have an empty nest.

But I have a real empty nest -- one once occupied by a family of Cardinals in the large bush outside my home office window.

It's an empty nest and, frankly, I'm a little worried.

It's not too unlike being a parent. You have a house full of children one day then suddenly, or so it seems, they're gone -- off to college, off to jobs, off to lives that don't require mom and dad as much. And you worry: Is everyone OK flying around out there on their own?

It was actually kind of exciting there for a while, to be watching as a grandparent might over the progression of the three Cardinal babies, from eggs to little hatchlings with mouths wide open in their constant plea for food.

Daddy Cardinal looked like the one bringing home the bacon, or whatever it was that the babies clamored for mouths agape. I'm no expert when it comes to ornithology but it looked like he was arriving home with the food, discharging whatever it was from his beak into the mouths of babes.

They got the constant attention of Dad, resplendent in his red coat and black piping, and from Mom, more muted in her brownish tones. And they got my attention. I was able to snap a few pictures for the family album (see photo above).

Then I went away for a couple of days and when I got back the nest was empty.

Had the kids grown enough to fly the nest already? Had there been a problem -- an attack by a predator, perhaps? -- that I wasn't here to prevent?

My concern heightened when Mother Cardinal came flying into the bush on my first day back, looking in the nest, looking in various parts of the bush, even looking on the ground as if she was searching for her brood.

Nothing. No one. I went and checked around myself. No one. Nothing that indicated a struggle, no feathers, no body parts and yes I've been watching way too much "CSI".

Today, many days later, the nest is just there. It now has no purpose, it is just a hollowed collection of twigs, pine needles and mud in the crook of the bush.

The empty nest in the bush serves as a reminder of my own empty nest. Hey, when you write for a living, you find metaphors just about everywhere you go, even if it's no further than your house.