TODAY'S BIG STORY: Even if it is empty, your last nest should be your best nest! For the past few days, I have been studying the concept of an 'empty nest'.
My three small children are three grown
adults, my house is empty, and my calendar is blank. Every member of my
family is now gainfully employed, with one exception: ME. My hectic
life that was filled with constant interruptions is now hushed, and the all-consuming days of continual sowing and gathering have, at last, yielded a
grateful harvest and an empty nest.
Caliology is the study of birds' nests, and the subject is fascinating! According to a book entitled Birds' Nests: An Introduction to the Science of Caliology, "
the bird's nest is the most graphic mirror of a bird's mind." What an amazing thought! I have had an endearment for birds' nests since I was a little girl growing up in the country. On Sunday afternoons after lunch, my aunt would take the nieces and nephews on a 'hike', as she termed it. We would walk past my grandpa's sheds, which provided a craftsman's lesson in primitive and resourceful nest-building. First we passed a combination wash house/smoke house. Then we usually made a stop at Grandpa's tool shop and the feed crib. We also passed a potato bank, which was actually built on the side of an embankment and served as a storm pit during bad weather. Behind the potato bank was a chicken house where the chickens roosted at night.
When we arrived at the bottom of the sloped pasture, we meandered around a huge oak tree onto a small cattle lane. We walked over a shallow creek and around a densely wooded area ~ always watching for snakes. The purpose of the expedition was to find something interesting to discuss and hopefully bring home. I remember finding wild violets, fossilized rocks, and bird feathers. We studied animal tracks, and we identified trees by their leaves; however, when we spotted a bird's nest, the trip was golden. Of course, we were never allowed to touch a nest. Aunt Hilda warned us that the mother bird would not return to a nest that had been touched by human hands; and, as young children, we believed every word Aunt Hilda said.
In the
Birds' Nests book, written in 1902 by Charles Dixon, I discovered too many quotes to post; however, this quote is one of my favorites: "
There are, perhaps, few things in nature more exquisitely pretty than the nests of certain birds; not only do these structures appeal to us through their beauty, but still more so through the creative mind of the little architects that build them."
And yet, despite all their beauty, birds' nests are built for utilitarian purposes only. "
When once these purposes are served, the nest, no matter how elaborate or beautiful it may be or the immense amount of labour it may have cost its owners, is forthwith deserted, either forever or only used again when the recurring necessities of reproduction require it." How we humans identify with the patterns of our winged counterparts. I have traveled so many rural highways which are dotted by architectural masterpieces ~ beautiful decaying family homes which have been deserted by their owners because the utilitarian purpose of child-rearing had passed. "
Like the gaudy chrysalis or cocoon, and notwithstanding its beauty, which has served but a secondary and quite unappreciated purpose, it is discarded and left to inevitable decay, its owners taking no interest in it whatever."
I fully understand the portion of the quote, "
only used again when the recurring necessities of reproduction require it." When our son ~ the youngest of our three children ~ graduated from high school, my husband and I decided to sell the big house. Right about the same time, Zoe, our corgi, had seven puppies. The family that was interested in the big house had five small children under the age of nine. They had found their perfect nest. Not only did the family want to buy our house, they also wanted Zoe's puppies. By the time we closed on the sell of the house, the puppies were old enough to be separated from their mother. Just days before we moved, we carried our corgi to the local vet to have her spayed. On the morning of moving day, Zoe and I were watching the sunrise one last time from our front porch perch. She was resting at my feet, and I noticed her scar. All those "
recurring necessities of reproduction" that had been required of us were passed, and we were both relaxed and relieved.
Birds' nests are usually built for two purposes: laying eggs and raising young birds. The bird's nest is a place of incubation (warmth), protection, and instruction. The momma bird in me is confident that each one of our many nests has provided some, if not all, of the above. In our nesting attempts, we built brand new nests, refurbished the nests of others, and even returned to our old nests ~ twice. But now, my nest is empty. All of my little birds have nests of their own making in habitats of their own choosing.
According to Wikipedia, the ability to choose and maintain good nest sites and build high quality nests is a female thing among most bird species. I know this is true for most humans as well. My two daughters searched out their nesting sites and have taken great care in building their first nests. They have chosen awesome paint colors, restored furniture, purchased just-the-right accessories, and created their very own HGTV-worthy nests; however, my son rents a third-floor nest which includes a couch that folds out into a bed, two stools at the bar (actually one is still in the box), a television stand, and a 42" plasma television. In some species, the male helps with nest construction as part of the courtship display, but only for the attention of the female. Where there is no courtship, the male bird is content with the most rudimentary nest, and in most cases, does not make even the slightest provision for nest building. Sounds like a third-story Matt-cave!
But what's a momma bird to do with an empty nest? Finding the answer to that question was difficult. Nests that are not specifically used for breeding are called '
dormitory nests or roost nests (winter-nest)' and are used '
only for roosting or resting'. I think a know the human equivalent to dormitory nests, and I am not interested just yet. I want a winter-nest ~ a roost nest ~ a nest for sitting, reading, resting, lodging, and sleeping.
In his poem
It Is Not Always May, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote the following:
Enjoy the Spring of Love and Youth,
To some good angel leave the rest;
For Time will teach thee soon the truth,
There are no birds in last year's nest!
With the help of some good angel, I am ready to build my last best nest
~ to be continued...
Dianne ; )
Sometimes he pulled it out of his coat, or laid it on the dashboard or tailgate of his truck, or left it on a fence post for me to find at the cleared area. The something was a bird's nest in perfect condition, completely unharmed by the removal process. My husband knew that I embraced the fact that the even the smallest of homes was regarded during his painstaking enterprise. The bird's nest was his way to impress...and it always worked ~ every single time.
