Writing my way through the A-to-Z blogging challenge, I’ve tasked myself with leading you on a meandering tour of the virtual garden of delights and curiosities and thoughts that make up my world – all through the lens of unusual, obscure, or simply charming-to-me words.
N is for…
nidifice: a nest
Although I’ve been thinking quite a bit about nesting in terms of our own sequestering, it’s also Spring and my thoughts can’t help but turn to birds. I like imagining what birds might be thinking when they build their nests. And what delight they might feel when they stumble upon the most perfect bit of string, or a shiny bauble, or a flowering twig. Just like when I find a treasure for my nest. Life is full of surprises, and may they all be especially delightful!
I keep this mixed media collage piece by Marilyn Madden entitled Raven Nest on one of my apothecary chests where I keep my own treasures stored in the various drawers.
I’ve pulled out my copy of Nest: Fifty Nests and the Birds that Built Them by photographer Sharon Bealsis. I can pore over it for hours marveling at the endless variety of beautifulness. If you get a chance to peek at a copy I think you’d be delighted as well.
Whenever I think of nests, I can’t help but think of Marilyn Dammann, an artist friend who crossed this veil a number of years ago. She was known for her nest creations – from life size to tiny, tiny things, and they were all quite magical. I feel the loss of her magical spirit deeply, but I love thinking she’s moved on to create even more delightful nests elsewhere. This is one of my favorite photos of her which she sent as part of a mailart call on nests many years ago.
Nests can be many things, but I especially like thinking of the nest of oneself where you gather all that is you. I’ve been pondering that a great deal – what it means to be a nest carrying around all of me.
But I also think about how life is never static and always moves on and how we need to navigate the changes. Just as birds eventually leave their nests and the cycle begins anew. But things aren’t always simple, and I like how the words of Katherine Mansfield speaks to that. She wrote:
“How hard it is to escape from places. However carefully one goes they hold you – you leave little bits of yourself fluttering on the fences – like rags and shreds of your very life.”
Hard though it may be, I like imaging some of those fluttering bits on the fences provide just the treasure someone is looking for.
And returning my thoughts to this time of global nesting, I think this admonition from John Ruskin, seems quite apt for these times:
“Make yourselves nests of pleasant thoughts. None of us knows what fairy palaces we may build of beautiful thought – proof against all adversity. Bright fancies, satisfied memories, noble histories, faithful sayings, treasure houses of precious and restful thoughts, which care cannot disturb, nor pain make gloomy, nor poverty take away from us.”
Now I’m passing the branch to you – have any nest stories to share? Do you like the image of being the nest of you? Have a favorite kind of nest? While I’ve been talking mostly about bird nests, I’m fascinated by other nests as well. Paper wasps create fabulous ones. Ever see a hummingbird nest? Do tell – you know I love to hear.
We are truly nesting, and finding lots of quiet and reflection time. I’m getting too much solitude at the moment; I enjoy more of a mix of social activity and alone moments. I don’t have any nest stories to share, although we had a huge wasp nest in a duct once. It was amazing, although the wasps getting into the house was not acceptable!
A wasp nest in your ducts doesn’t sound very optimal – yikes. But paper wasps are exceptionally docile and make the most amazing nest creations.
Oh, and you probably already know this, but “nid” means nest in French. 🙂
Oui. 🙂
Thanks Deborah – delightful 🙂 I’d not thought of making my own nest and now I am on reflection. Making our home as lovely and as nourishing as can be, and cooking up a storm something I’ve never been ‘into’.
It’s always lovely to see nests in unexpected places . Like this beautiful nest of Marilyn Dammann.
That 1st photo is perfectly endearing, mother bird looking lovingly into her nest and brood to be … which makes me think of hatching. Strange word as I type it … and the incubation time which is what I suppose we’re all doing in our way in this time of Corona ..
I AM thinking of this as incubation time Susan, and wondering what our world will hatch. I’m wondering what I’ll hatch. But I’m definitely a nester by nature. You practically have to push me out to get me to leave.
Second try with my comment…
I like the Ruskin quote and will be making myself a nest of pleasant thoughts this very afternoon.
Sorry you had commenting trouble, but I’m glad Ruskin’s words invited you into some pleasant thoughts. Always a good way to spend time isn’t it?
I like the photo of your friend nesting in nature. I like the idea of it. It’s there, waiting to give respite whenever we choose to go there.
Lovely isn’t it? Nature is such a beautiful source of comfort and inspiration.
That image of Marilyn Dammann sums it up for me. It’s the perfect pictorial representation of the times.
There is a nest in our yellow trumpet vine which was full a few weeks ago. It’s quiet now. I think the little ones have grown and fled so the silent nest sits there–perhaps waiting fro new tenants.
I used to watch the birds when they were there–loved it.
I like this line very much:”I like imaging some of those fluttering bits on the fences provide just the treasure someone is looking for.” It’s very connecting and comforting.
A yellow trumpet vine and a nest – what a lovely combination. I like the idea that perhaps the nest will be claimed by new tenants and you’ll get another round of bird watching in.
I love Marilyn’s life-size nest, and it certainly does seem like a perfect image for these times. This time of sequestering has slowed me down in almost all respects, and I’m pretty sure a nap would be a very good thing right now.
I like the idea that the bits I shed as I go along through life may prove to help others build their nests.
This year I have chickadees in the birdhouse under the eaves of the front porch, and a robin nesting in the forsythia right next to the chickadees. It makes me so happy to see them. (Alas, the English sparrows are also nesting quite near there and bully the chickadees, which I hate to see. Of course they are also just trying to do what they think is necessary for their own broods, but I wish I could explain to them that I don’t want that sort of behavior in my yard!)
Black and White (Words and Pictures)