Does it have something to do with the brown mess of twigs and sticks, mud and leaves, tenderly assembled into a home?
Is it the wonder of these little creatures so diligently crafting their home to house and hold their little-ones-to-be?
Is it the pretty, soft-colored eggs that lie there in expectant waiting?
Does it represent hope? new life? spring? future joy?
Perhaps it is all this and more. Perhaps it’s the perfect picture of an exquisite everyday exclamation! A monumental mundane! A typically UN-noticed and hidden jewel perched precariously in a tree, exposed to wind and weather, yet enduring.
When we peer into a Bird’s Nest, do we see ourselves? our lives? our life’s work?
I don’t know. All I know is that I love to draw them. Love to knit them. Love to crochet them. Somehow they speak to me of Spring. Of Hope. Of Life.