Yesterday I wrote about my front porch, a favorite spot of mine. But there's one little thing on my porch that I didn't show you.
I did show you what I see if I'm sitting on the loveseat looking into the yard.
I didn't show you what I see if I look the other way. Here it is:
See that mess at the top of one of the columns? Here, a closer look:
It's a nest. An empty nest, now. A tiny bird (a wren, I think) found our porch to be inviting and comforting, just like I want people to think about it. And so she chose it as a place to have her babies, to raise her family.
We all know how cool birds' nests can look if we display them properly. And that little wren has no use for her nest any more--her little ones have long since flown away. So why can't I take that nest down and put it in an arrangement or under a cloche or something?
I just can't. I just can't bring myself to disturb that empty nest.
This Friday, my oldest son will graduate from high school. It seems like such a short time ago that he was my curly-haired baby. Friday he will walk across the stage and collect the evidence that he has, in fact, earned the right to fly on his own. Here he is between his two brothers. You can see that he's grown up.
Soon he'll go away to college. He's gone away before. Last summer he spent six weeks away from home on a mission trip. The summer before that he went away to a college summer program. I know what it's like to have his place empty. But this time it's different. This time it's for real.
And maybe I can't take that nest down because, down deep in my heart, I want those baby birds to come back and perch there for just a bit. I know that they can't live in the old nest. The nest doesn't fit them any more. And I'm glad that they're grown up and free and able to fly. Still, every once in a while, I want them to fly home.
And the nest will be here, waiting.
Shared with Emily's "Tuesdays Unwrapped" at Chatting at the Sky.