Of Eggs and Imposters: A Nesting Story

“I didn’t lay that egg.”

Mrs. Reed Warbler sat side-by-side with Mr. Reed Warbler on the edge of their nest. Together, they considered its contents. It was the same cozy woven bowl of grasses and reeds that it had been before, but there was a problem. A number problem! When Mrs. Reed Warbler had left the eggs to get a drink of water, there had been three perfect beige orbs with cocoa speckles tucked into the bottom of the nest. When she’d returned the briefest of moments later, there were four perfect beige orbs with cocoa speckles tucked into the bottom of the nest. 

Eggs didn’t just appear out of thin air! It was unexpected! 

Undesirable! 

Unnatural! 

She’d immediately called for Mr. Reed Warbler to come give his opinion. 

Mr. Reed Warbler cocked his head first one way and then the other as he studied the eggs. He and Mrs. Reed Warbler were identical in appearance, tawny-blonde birds with brown wings and head feathers that peaked into the faintest hint of crests, “Are you sure, dearest?” He said finally, “It looks just like the other ones.”

“It doesn’t look at all like them. Look how much bigger it is,” Mrs. Reed Warbler ruffled her wings in agitation, “I couldn’t have laid that. And it doesn’t matter anyway. It wasn’t there when I left.”

“I’m sure you just forgot you laid it,” Mr. Reed Warbler soothed, “Sitting on the eggs all day is quite mind-numbing. The boredom must be addling, is all.”

“I’m not addled!” Mrs. Reed Warbler protested, “Of course I can remember how many eggs I’ve laid! And it was only three!”

“All right, all right,” Mr. Reed Warbler wisely chose not to argue, “Well, what does it matter? Another nestling to care for is hardly a concern, even if it isn’t exactly, technically one of ours. One might even call it a blessing, so many sweet young ones to raise.”

“Or a curse. Don’t you remember Mrs. Dunnock?”

“I…the little gray and brown bird who lived in the hedgerow?”

“Yes, that’s the one. She had the loveliest nest of four blue eggs last year, the same color as the sky on a hot summer’s day. And then one day a fifth egg appeared, only this one was beige spotted with cocoa like that one. She and Mr. Dunnock thought there was no harm in it, so they let it hatch. And it grew into a monster! Black and white and striped like a zebra! And huge! They could barely manage to feed it!”

There was a pause while Mrs. Reed Warbler waited for Mr. Reed Warbler’s reaction, but none was forthcoming. She looked at her mate and saw a faintly puzzled, distracted look in his eyes, “Hello?” She asked, waving a wing in front of his face, “Mr. Reed Warbler? Monster? Yes?”

He shook himself, “Sorry, sweetfeathers! I confess I was distracted trying to figure out what a zebra was.”

Robin’s beak he was dense sometimes! Mrs. Reed Warbler barely managed not to throw out her wings in frustration, “Forget zebras, they’re hardly the point! The point is that we don’t need to raise a monster!”

“I’m sure Mrs. Dunnock was exaggerating,” Mr. Reed Warbler said placatingly, “You know how she loves to gossip.”

“I saw the chick myself. It didn’t look a thing like her and Mr. Dunnock.”

“But it was still a chick,” Mr. Reed Warbler’s feathers fluttered ever so slightly, “Surely it didn’t ask to be born large and dark and striped. It was just as innocent and in need of love and care as any other.”

“It wasn’t innocent,” Mrs. Reed Warbler said darkly.

“And how would you judge that?”

“Because I told you there were five eggs. But by the time I saw the nest, there was only one chick. What do you think happened to all the others?”

There was a pause, and now Mr. Reed Warbler didn’t bother to hide his skepticism, “You think a newly hatched chick would harm his nestmates?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that they went from five eggs to one monster.”

“I’m sure there’s another explanation. Maybe there was a predator, or part of the nest broke and the other eggs fell out.”

“Or maybe the Dunnocks let an imposter harm their real chicks. And maybe we’re brooding one right here in our own nest.”

“Well then, what do you propose we do?”

Mrs. Reed Warbler looked first at her precious, perfect eggs, then narrowed her eyes as she looked at the new arrival, “I can push it out of the nest myself.”

“Push it out of the nest? Now I know you’ve been sitting on the eggs too long!” Mr. Reed Warbler exclaimed, drawing himself up to his full, diminutive height, “Pushing an egg out of its nest is murder. You want to commit murder based on a fraction of a story from an unreliable source? No.”

“But our chicks-”

“Deserve to hatch safely into the care of parents who love them. All of them,” Mr. Reed Warbler said firmly, “Even if they’re too big and dark and striped like a whatever-you-called-it.” 

“A zebra,” Mrs. Reed Warbler muttered.

“They could be flamingos for all I care. We are not pushing an egg out of our nest,” Mr. Reed Warbler spread his wings, “Now I’m going to go find us some dinner. Can you sit on the eggs without any more hysterics, or do I need to take a turn watching them?”

Mrs. Reed Warbler huffed, but after a moment she hopped into the nest and settled irritably on the eggs. She watched as Mr. Reed Warbler launched off into the evening, ruminating. 

Was she really addled?

A gossip?

A murderer?

She thought of monsters.

She thought of eggs the color of the summer sky, robbed of the opportunity to hatch. 

She thought of her three perfect beige orbs with their cocoa speckles. 

“I really didn’t lay that egg,” Mrs. Reed Warbler mumbled, half to herself. 

She hopped off the eggs and, with the smallest of heaves, shoved the imposter egg out of the nest. 

Field Notes

Common (or Eurasian) Reed Warblers and Dunnocks are two bird species that commonly suffer brood parasitism by Common Cuckoos. Brood parasitism is when one bird lays an egg in the nest of another, leaving all parental duties to the unwitting parents. Common Cuckoo chicks go one step further and push the eggs of their adopted family out of the nest after hatching. Common Cuckoos are bigger than Reed Warblers, so the parents end up feeding a chick several times their size instead of their own chicks. Pictures of this are equally humorous and distressing!