Twigs, Mud, Dried Grasses and ... Polypropylene Fibers?

Today, full sun and blue skies. I lean back, tip my head skyward, and watch the sway of treetops filled with red buds. These tender tidbits marinate themselves in sunshine. Soon enough their flavor will burst forth. Juicy, delicious shades of green circling along branches, dripping magnificent cool shade onto the forest floor.

Is it obvious that I've tiptoed--and now tumbled--into spring? There's no going back. A few frozen snowpiles lie hidden in shaded harbors but my senses are attuned to the sights and sounds and smells of spring....

On our walk to the mailbox several days ago Frances and I found a bird's nest in the ditch along our drive. Delicate and fragile, it was tiny, just two inches deep and three inches across. This lightweight home was woven from dried grasses with a few bits of birch bark curling along its outer edge. Most remarkable were the traces of manmade trash that coated its exterior. White, fluffy, polypropylene fibers--probably stolen from one of Namaste's stuffed dog toys--served as insulation. None of that fiber invaded the interior of the nest, though, where eggs and, later, tiny babies probably rested.

We placed this miniature woodland house on our fireplace mantel alongside an earlier model. That nest, discovered last year, is much larger, heavier, and sturdier, three inches deep and almost six inches across. Its materials, too, include dried grasses but its circular "concrete" walls are made of mud and thin, tiny twigs.

These nests remind me of a recent email: "Duck Story." It tells of a mama duck who built her nest on the second story concrete awning of a downtown San Antonio, TX bank building. Then she laid 10 eggs. Through words and pictures the duck tale unfolds.

When all 10 carefully watched eggs hatched, one bank employee took mama and her 10 ducklings under his wing. Once he saw the first babe fly/fall to the cement sidewalk below he quickly positioned himself below the nest. There he caught each baby as it flung itself into the air; then gently placed it next to its mama.

Once successful, this man then realized that the birds were still two blocks away from the San Antonio River. He cringed at the thought of their trek down sidewalks and across busy intersections. Retrieving an empty cardboard box, he gently placed the babies within, and led mama to the river. The final family portrait, taken after everyone was safely in the water, showed 10 babies lined in rows facing the camera with mama in the front, beak open.

I do wonder: What happened to the tiny beings that were hatched and tended in my two empty nests. I hope they, too, experienced a picture-perfect moment after leaving the nest.