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How an empty birds nest reminded me that I don’t need wings to fly
On my walk today, I found an empty bird’s nest. It is the perfect little nest, except it was on the road. I brought it home and showed my boyfriend, and he gave me a sad little face. He said, aww, the poor bird.
I thought of it differently. My boyfriend saw it as the bird had lost her nest and possibly what was inside. He is also a sensitive soul. I am not so much; I saw it as the nest was no longer needed, and the birds had already flown away.
Either of these is possible. Yet what makes us think one way instead of the other?
Why was his reaction one of sadness and mine of such curiosity that I picked it up and brought it home?
I then placed it outside in a tree if another bird would like to use it. Do birds re-use other birds’ nests? I have no idea.
I imagine a little bird family that had once occupied that nest with their brothers and sisters. Their mother gently fed them and raised them until they were strong enough to leave the nest.
To go out into the great unknown and explore this fantastic, wonderful world.
