A woman living on a street slowly returning to wooded scrub land greets us with a smile. I remember her from a week or two ago. All the windows are open, no screens, door flung wide to the outside. This is unusual in one of the many parts of the city where most of the inhabited homes are secured with steel crime guards. I ask about the robins nest tucked into a corner of her listing porch awning. She says the baby birds are visible from the front door. I notice them on the way out. The smell inside her home is overpowering, the water supply shut off. Empty pet food cans, water bowls, plastic crates, and nesting blankets on the floor are evidence the woman cares for many pets. Dogs bark from the other side of a closed door. A cat is poised to reenter the house. Soon, the young robins will vacate the nest, leave this place for good.