New life. Another wonky limbed calf has joined the herd and we laugh as it frisks about the paddock. The bees are all in a whir about the rosemary; my daily tussle of the bright green leaves to release their scent may have to cease for a time lest I disturb their honey dance. There are two pale pink blooms just out of reach on the climbing roses and I watched through the window as the blackbird busied himself with straw collecting. That one was too long, this one too tangled. Much tug of war-ing between scarlet beak and golden thread until finally he flew off with the piece that indeed was “just so”. He was completely unaware of my presence, and also of the inspiration he gave me to try, try, try again.
In gratitude to the moments of still that blackbird and all his feathered friends bring, we created nest helpers. We took thin willow branches (any bendy branch or vine would work) and fashioned them into a rustic circle. Over and under, over and under to make a weaving loom fit for nesting treasures. And then a basket of wool, fleece, hair from the hairbrush and fine string. A quiet morning, busy fingers and an intention to care for our feathered friends. Little “nest shops” to hang in the hawthorn tree where the birds can come to gather supplies for their Spring homes.
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