My Last Best Nest, Part Two

In all the places we lived, my husband cleared thousands of hedge bushes. While most men jumped on a big machine and leveled rows of unwanted hedge in an afternoon, he carefully removed them with his own sheer strength and determination ~ one by one ~ which usually took years.  On the Hundred Acre Farm, he cleared hedges for four years, until the property paralleled a manicured golf course.  He cut away hedges from around ponds, along fence lines, and underneath trees; but, the one thing I remember most about all that hedge labor was the gift of the bird nests.

After a long day of clearing hedge, David would always meet me at the campsite situated by one of the three ponds on the property.  On hot summer days, we sat underneath the shade trees and shared ice cold water, sweet tea, and big dreams.  On cold winter days, we warmed by a fire of hickory and oak with a cup of coffee and hot chocolate.  After a short break, he was anxious to show me what he had accomplished during the day.   Then he would say, almost as an afterthought, "Oh yeh, I found you something."

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.

Upon observation, I could tell that each nest was literally "a graphic mirror of the bird's mind."  No two nests were ever just alike.  The larger nests looked like baskets ~ crude, flat, and loosely woven with twigs. These nests barely held together once removed from the branches that supported them.  Other nests resembled tiny crocheted cup holders.  These detailed nests were composed of grasses, horse hair, feathers, mosses, lichen, and various gathered materials.  Each component was intertwined and fused together with such heart and soul, that the nest itself could not be torn apart.  The attention to detail and the appointed placement of each necessary furnishing rivaled any perfectly staged home.  These miniature prototypes set the standard for my last best nest.

So...my husband and I set out on a nest-making mission.  First, we made a list of the utilitarian must-haves for our last best nest.  We both wanted a cozy nest that's big enough for two with a wood-burning fireplace. We wanted three porches: a front porch for rocking, a screened-in or sleeping porch for reading and resting, and a back porch for reminiscing.  I requested a dedicated library for all my books, and David listed a separate tool shed/garage.  Neither of us wanted another two-story house with stairs to climb.  Perhaps, most importantly, we desired a natural habitat which provided concealment and privacy...just like the tiny bird nest hidden in the hedge.

After months of scavenging, we found our last best nest ~ Southern Living's Banning Court. The only missing component was the separate two-car garage/tool shed, which could be easily attached.

One, two, three porches...a fireplace...a library (now who can believe that!)...one story ~ room for two. Thanks to Pinterest, I have pinned 177 ideas on My Last Best Nest board to date.  Check it out!  

http://pinterest.com/dmclaurin59/my-last-best-nest/

As my husband and I looked at possibilities for the garage attachment, he could sense my excitement.  The male just knows that the female loves to build nests!  He smiled and said,"Well, maybe I can impress you one last time with a perfect little nest."

And to some good angel leave the rest ~ to be continued...

Dianne ; )