By Becky Nelson
Bramblings
I was thinking of doing a social media year in review of photos for the farm. I abandoned the idea but came across some poignant shots that brought back some interesting memories. The most poignant was the shot I have included with this column. A solitary nest, abandoned in the sugar woods, looking to be found by this old lady as she prepped the sap lines for another year. It made me ponder a bit then and it’s making me ponder a bit again.
The nest was amazing, constructed by a very focused little bird or two to hold the bird family eggs holding the potential for a new generation. Made of things around them, pine needles, birch bark, grass … the nest was a work of art and a thing of beauty lying on a patch of snow. I might not have noticed the nest if it weren’t for the snow as it blended perfectly into the surrounding pine needles, bark and leaves on the forest floor, just as designed. It must be hard to be a little bird, which this must have been … a tiny wren or finch of some sort I imagine. With a forest constantly prowled by fisher cats, bobcats and coyotes, the little nest was probably placed high enough in a tree to protect the eggs and baby birds from harm. With hawks and owls frequent predators in this neck of the woods, it had to be placed in the brush so as not to be easily seen from above. A fortress when protected by a mom or dad bird, a sanctuary for baby beings, a perfectly camouflaged home, and we never would have been aware of its existence if I hadn’t happened to stumble upon it in my work.
The nest is also a symbol to me of hope, and rebirth, and dreams, a symbol of a successful summer. Those baby birds are now about to build nests of their own, and the circle of life is still spinning … quietly and diligently. We need to examine these nests every now and again, and make sure they are strong enough to hold our future inside. The abandoned nest should be seen as a job well done.
We all have our nests. We have carefully constructed our homes and our personal and work lives to protect ourselves and our offspring. Most of us work to pass our hopes and dreams and hard work and accomplishments on to our nestlings, biological or in the greater society, so they may have a better or a just-as-good-as life as we have enjoyed, and even though most of us may go unnoticed during every day by other birds around us, we have created a meaningful nest. Just going about our day in the seeming drudgery of workdays, school activities and visits to the store are important fronds in the fabric of these community nests we have built, each as important as the next.
Looking back at that nest photo has comforted me, knowing that my husband and I have done a pretty good job of making our nest. The baby birds have flown and are weaving their own nests in their homes and our community, and we are pretty proud sparrows. All the tools are still here … the pine needles, birch bark and fronds of grass … to make their own nests, protect themselves from the hawks and the coyotes, and raise their own nestlings to keep the world a decent and beautiful place to enjoy while we, and they, are here. It is a great responsibility to keep the nest-building going, and I am proud to say that we … and you … are still building nests of hopes and dreams.
Happy New Year and happy nest building.
Becky and her husband Ben own Beaver Pond Farm in Newport, New Hampshire, where her family has farmed since 1780. You can reach her at [email protected].
