I was walking along a park trail on a recent fall day.
A week of constant showers made the ground soggy. Rain drops still hung from branch tips and sat collected in puddles in fallen leaf cups.
I hugged myself a bit, shrinking my hands into my sleeves, as a bitter wind whipped past in countering gusts, undecided which way it wanted to blow.
I was moving at a relatively quick pace when something stopped me fast.
I stared at it for a minute, a little sentimental wondering what happened to this bird family or if a family had been living in this nest at all when it fell. I marveled at the intricacy of its woven, curved branches and careful construction. Nature contains all the elements of design: size, color, texture, shape, form, function. The beauty of the nest is not lost to the those who wonder at nature.
Usually when you find a nest in a tree, people tell you it’s a sign of good luck. But this one just reminded me that we are all unique, we are all fragile, and we are all survivors.
So I scooped up the nest, abandoned but in tact, and put it gently back into a nearby tree.
Even birds could use a helping hand now and then.