Learning from wonder of new life in spring
Each year, when I’m sure spring is on her way, I replace my frontdoor winter evergreen wreath with a bright floral arrangement of pinks and greens and blues. It’s a rite of passage to welcome the much-anticipated change of season. Warmth and new growth are surely on their way.
For as long as I’ve owned my spring wreath, its reappearance becomes loaded — literally. Not only do I love it, but so do the birds. Within a day, deep within the floral arrangement, a nest appears, giving me the opportunity for a bird’s-eye view of the amazement of nature. Have you ever really looked at a bird’s nest? I am amazed that within hours, a bird can create such an intricate design of yard remnants sturdy enough to become a home.
Conventional wisdom does not encourage nurturing a bird’s nest in your front-door wreath. For one thing, you take a gamble every time you open the front door. Believe me, if I am too hasty, it’s quite possible that a bird could fly right into my house. Of course, when that happens (in my experience) there are two options. Either you trap the bird in the upstairs bathroom and open the window, or you use your words and arms to speak to the spirit of the bird, inviting him or her to return to the open skies. It’s amazing how quickly every door and window of the house opens up. Either scenario is quite the spectacle, which leaves some of us in a panic, and others doubled over in laughter. Just ask my children.
Some may ask, why on earth do I hang the same wreath spring after spring knowing a nest will appear? My answer is simple: wonder. The wonder of how a bird can construct a nest from yard scrap is mind-boggling. Looking closely at the interwoven blades of last season’s grass with leaf remnants glued together with some kind of dried mud mix is a lesson not only in ingenuity, but also in creativity; not to mention the bird’s commitment to recycling. This year, I readily admit, my hope was that another nest would appear, and when it did, I felt like I’d never seen a nest before. I was in awe.
The best part of having a bird’s nest so accessible is that I get to witness up close what happens in it. Each day, I peek from a distant corner of my front porch to see if any little blue robin eggs appear. Although I know exactly what I’m anticipating, the sight of two or three eggs nestled securely in their mother’s handiwork fills me with childlike joy. And speaking of children, there is nothing like sharing the journey of a tiny egg with my grandchildren. The nest teaches them, too, about wonder.
There have been times when wonder leaves me sad. When I see a broken egg that has fallen from the nest, I’m disappointed. But then, on those days when I peek stealthily into the nest and I see little beaks anticipating their mother’s return, I am overjoyed. Talk about wonder! And then I hear little chirps and see feathers moving in rhythmic motion in sync with newly learned breathing. Spring’s life makes me smile.
And it seems, just like that, these growing birds find their wings and are gone. The metaphor mirroring the human experience of giving our children roots so they can someday fly with strengthened wings doesn’t go unnoticed. There is comfort in the reminders of nature’s cycles of life. For me, it is one of the many highlights of spring, and reminds me to pay attention. After all, you never know what wonder you’ll find just outside your front door.