An early spring Robin has found her way north and landed in my heart. The urge to nest—to sift through my apartment, to pare down to the necessary, to tidy and straighten and organize—comes on strong and unexpected. They say pregnant women do this, but I am far from that – so what then? I can only wonder at what my subconscious seems to know is coming, why I feel this rising need to prepare myself for a journey or a challenge or a sight unseen. I can only wonder and guess and follow my impulse to wend and weave the twigs, the Autumn leaves, the small strips of colored cloth.
My palms cup this tiny nest I am building and I wait for its hatchlings to arrive.
This tiny birthday card arrived in my mailbox several years ago. I cannot think of anything more perfect than a nest built from artists’ tools.