Tree limbs were waving about wildly as if they had ball bearings in their attachment to the trees. All I could think of was, "What about the baby birds in the nest over the parking lot?"
Now, if I had never seen the mama bird bringing food, and heard the baby birds set up their caterwauling demands to be first fed, I would not be worrying about baby birds in nests. But I did see them and hear them and knew they were there. So, I worried.
After the storm was over, I looked through the glasses at the nest. Its placement seemed disturbed. Maybe it was just the leaves that were disturbed, so I checked under the tree and - no baby birds, so probably okay.
This afternoon was the first I saw the mama - a Robin - bringing food to the nest, and there were the babies - little scrawny necks stretched, mouths wide open, "Me first! Me first!" baby bird noises sounding.
All is well. I hate finding baby birds dead on the ground. I thank God that Robins evolved to produce sturdy, well-attached nests.
As an aside, Mourning Doves, on the other hand, build a nest of twigs and pine needles in the crook of a tree branch and its a pretty flimsy thing. Maybe that's why they lay only two eggs at a time. A third of nests fail. No wonder they raise - or try to raise - five or six pairs of young, each pair in succession after the previous one is fledged. It's a miracle to me there are so many Mourning Doves at all!