displaced blessing

Don't allow this present slumber fool you. These two like to play. The problem is sometimes their playmates aren't strong enough to withstand the intensity.

That is why when I saw a dark pile in my backyard Sunday night when I arrived home after 9pm and went out to feed them, I did not investigate. I simply didn't have it in me to pick up anything lifeless. There was no smell of death so I knew if it was animal, it was a fresh victim. This morning, despite wishful thinking, the pile was still there. And a bit of hopeful thinking entered my mind-perhaps it was a pile of trash.

Early this afternoon I went out on the back porch to get a clearer look. I realized it was not trash and thought it might be the next best thing- a pile of pine needles or something of that sort. I was wrong, but thankfully it wasn't anything that had life in it. Unless you count the birds who built it and those that hatched in it. Still, in and of itself it had never been alive. Yesterday's storms were the culprit this time. 

I don't know if I've ever been more thankful to see an empty nest because some days, even the thought of death is enough to about send me over the edge. Today a displaced, empty nest gave me something to marvel about.

Ivy's shadow makes it hard to see the indentation from where it was built on a limb.

The inside is perfectly rounded, and lined with softer grass.

How amazing is it that birds, with no hands, can weave an intricate home.