I was walking the dogs last week and I stumbled across a fallen nest. Well, actually the dogs did. I carefully picked it up and looked inside to find two perfectly preserved little skeletons, in a nest of downy feathers.
I felt so sad for the little birds, not even given a real chance at life. They had probably just hatched and then the nest fell and they died. I tried not to think about whether they starved to death or the fall did them in…
I like to think that infertility, loss and all of the other ups and downs of life have weathered me so I am stronger when it comes to facts of nature – but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to feeling bad most of the day about it. Poor little baby birds.
I took the nest and placed it up in the tree (as far as I could reach) and am hopeful that when I walk down there this Spring to check on it, I will find a new Mama and (hopefully) some new babies! It served as a gentle reminder that, as final as something may seem, life does go on and hope can bloom.
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