By Mary Grace Musuneggi
When I moved into my house, I hung a wreath above the fireplace in my outdoor space. The wreath was made of vines and ribbons and baby’s breath. Within a month, I saw the robins in the area were picking away at it, taking pieces of the vine and ribbon and flying off to add to nests they were building elsewhere. On one particular evening, I noticed an industrious robin had chosen to use the wreath as the very foundation of his nest. He began by packing mud between the fireplace wall and the wreath. To discourage this building project, I removed the wreath, removed his structure and re-hung the wreath. I came home the next day to see that this determined robin had rebuilt the nest. After taking it down one more time, I came home the next evening to find he had built it again…and his female partner had moved in. I was amazed. Such determination should be rewarded, and so I left them alone. Within a few weeks eggs appeared, and within a couple of months baby birds were born, fed and taught to fly. Finally the entire family left the nest.
Even though I removed the old nest when the family moved out, for the next five springs, new robin families arrived, built their nest, raised their children and moved on. Somehow all felt very secure in my space; all were willing to share the space with me and my family. When we came out to sit, or watch TV, or grill, or just take in the evening air, the robin families did not fly away; instead, they watched our activities just like we watched theirs. They filled the mornings with their chirping and singing. On occasion, after the babies were born, the mothers sometimes squawked if we got too close, just to remind us that we were sharing their space, too, after all.
Then one year something new happened. After the robin family moved away, I forgot to take down the nest. I had been traveling a lot and upon returning from an extended trip, I was surprised to see a male and female dove had taken up residence in the old robin’s nest. Not only had they made it their home, but they had added more mud and twigs and leaves. It was big enough for the two of them to sit side by side. Upon further investigation, I discovered they were sitting on two eggs. For weeks they took over my deck, flew in and out, perched on the furniture and even sat on an outside ceiling fan as it went round and round. They were having a great time and really making themselves at home. When the babies hatched, the parents littered the area with seed pits and other food sources that they shared with their family. Unlike the robins, they were very unwilling to share the space. They squawked anytime I came out the door and frantically flew from side to side in the space when someone approached.
By the time they moved out the wreath that had been the foundation of all the nests and the source of building materials for so many robins had totally deteriorated. And so I took it down with nest attached and threw it away. It was the end of an era.
But in the process of clearing out the wreath and cleaning up the space I found myself meditating on what life lessons I had learned from this odyssey.
All of these birds do what comes naturally. They follow their instincts.
They are determined to accomplish their goal. They let nothing stand in the way of their progress.
They use natural elements to create a home and raise a family. And the doves recycled an existing structure, adapting it to their needs.
The priority for these birds is their family, and the parents work together to create a healthy, safe, and nurturing environment. They protect their nest from outside influences. They raise their children to ultimately become independent creatures, teaching them to fly, to search for food and to leave the nest. They teach them to become productive members of their society.
Their life is uncomplicated. It includes work and family, plus creativity and fun—the perfect example of simplicity, joy and abundance all rolled into one of God’s small creatures.
I am glad they shared their lives with me. I am glad I had the chance to share my space with them. And I am glad they reminded me of some basic rules for living well.
As we enter the Spring of this year, I am anxious to see who comes to live on my deck. A new wreath has been hung and robins are already flying by scoping it out.
And as you begin the Spring of your year take a lesson from my “friends.” Learn to live without stress; create and accomplish your goals; enjoy life’s simple pleasures. Build your personal “nest” with joy and abundance.
by Mary Grace Musuneggi
nothing seemed to happen. My clay continued to look like a lump to me. Then suddenly the teacher came over, picked it up, turned to the class and said, “Look! Isn’t this wonderful. Mary Grace made a cow.” Really? A cow? It didn’t look much like a cow to me. A cow was certainly not my plan. But young as I was I knew not to contradict my elders, especially when they were saying good things…and when those good things were about me. So I painted it and let it dry, and in a few days I took it home.