As I walked along the parkway this morning a little bird flew down onto the path a few feet in front of me. She delicately laid down her precious cargo: a tiny white feather. She took a breath and then ever-so-gently picked up her treasure and flew off into the woods. She was collecting material for her nest. Perhaps her finished home will resemble this one I found a year ago.
I see the birds – feeding at our feeders; I hear them singing – early in the morning and all throughout the day. They call, they warn, they prod, they simply sing. I have marveled at nests, including the one a black-capped chickadee built in our hanging basket a few years ago. But this morning I gained a new perspective when one little bird stopped me in my tracks. In a blinding flash of the obvious, I became aware that she is an architect, an engineer and a designer.
The tiny white feather was probably goose down which she would have gathered from the golf course nearby where the Canada geese make their home. It will become soft bedding for the eggs and then the newly hatched fledglings, and will add a textured beauty to the pieces of bark and moss and branch which form the protective shell of her home. I wonder how many chirping chicks will live there. Will she bring them out to the pathway?