A repost from the archives….because I sort of needed some light-hearted happy today:
Some day, you might get this uncanny urge to make a bird nest. But, before you get the urge to make a bird nest, you might get an urge to make some playdough. So, you do. You make some playdough. And it’s messy, but it’s fun.
Then…then you get an urge to make a bird nest. Because when you’re three, there’s only so many things you can actually make out of playdough.
I mean, you can make a snake. But snake-making is fun for like the first two minutes, then you want to go on to bigger and better things. So, a bird nest it is.
And since your mother wants to make sure you’re an avid nature-lover, and since she saw this great idea on Pinterest, you decide that a playdough bird nest isn’t quiet real-looking enough. You need some sticks and twigs.
So, you load up in your wagon and head for the woods.
You find some sticks and some leaves and some twigs. And you mash them in your nest. And you think to yourself, “My…what a real-looking nest that is. I wonder if a bird will want to sleep in this nest tonight, because it’s so real-looking?”
And lo and behold, a bird does appear…from your mother’s collection of nature things.
It makes some tweeting noises and when you listen closely, you hear it saying, “Excuse me, Mr. Bubby, do you mind if I make my abode in your fine nest that you have there?” And you let the birdy know that you don’t mind one bit.
But, first the birdy wants to sit in your sister’s nest. Though her nest is just too soft. And too yellowy. And smells too much like playdough. And tastes very salty.
So then the birdy sits in your nest. And your nest has just the right amount of sticks and twigs and pokey things and so it lays an egg. An egg that looks strikingly similar to a rock. But, it’s not a rock. No way, Hosea. It’s an egg. Really, it is. Because your nest is real. And your birdy loves it.
And that’s what happens when you get the urge to build a nest.