Recently we had a bird build a nest in the most precarious
location. And where would that
be? In a grapevine wreath on the
front door of the Kilgore home at 311 35th Ave., NE, Birmingham,
Alabama. I made the decorative wreath to embellish my office door when I was on
staff at Ridgecrest Baptist Church as Associate Pastor in the areas of music
and senior adults. After
retirement I brought the wreath home and relocated it to the front door of our
home. This Spring a small wren
surprised me with a beautiful decorative touch to the front door wreath—a bird’s
nest with four speckled eggs.
The nest itself was truly an amazing work of art. It was so well camouflaged that the
nest was completed before I even knew it was there. I have had birds build nests in the hanging ferns and in the
shrubbery nearby, but never on a door.
What a surprising discovery to find this uninvited touch of nature
showing up at our front door and so beautifully displayed. It came to mind that this was not
the best location for any bird’s nest, but it was an interesting
situation. I guess the bird saw it
differently.
That nest reminded me of a child’s book I read to Lee Beth
and John Mac as children, entitled “The Best Nest.” It was written by P. D. Eastman and published by Random
House, Inc. The reason I enjoyed
reading this simple story because it had a song inserted in the text for which
I would make up a tune and sing it while reading the story. The words to the song were “I
love my house. I love my nest. In
all the world my nest is best.”
Pictures are as important as words in a children’s book, but
I share the story now without the aid of pictures. At times I will add a
description in parenthesis to assist the storyline letting your imagination do
the rest. Hope you enjoy this
simple profound story.
Mr. Bird was happy. He was so happy he had to sing. This was Mr. Bird’s song: “I love my
house. I love my nest. In all the world my nest is best!”
Then Mrs. Bird came out of
the house. “It’s NOT the best nest!” she said. “I’m tired of
this old place,” said Mrs.
Bird. “I hate it. Let’s look for a new place right now!”
So they left the old place
to look for a new one. “This place
looks nice,” said Mr. Bird. “Let’s move in here.” (picture a tall tree with a
hole in the trunk.) But somebody
else had already moved in.
So they looked at another
house. “This one looks nice,” said
Mr. Bird. (picture a large old high-top shoe or a boot). “And there’s nobody in it.” “You’re wrong,” said Mrs. Bird. “This
house belongs to a foot!”
So they went on
looking. “I like this one,” said
Mr. Bird. “It has a pretty red
flag on the roof.” (picture a mail box)
“I’ve always wanted a house with a flag,” said Mrs. Bird. “Maybe this place will be all
right.” But it was not all right!
(picture letters being placed in
the box by the mailman) “I guess I made a mistake,” said Mr. Bird.
“You make too many
mistakes,” said Mrs. Bird. “I’m
going to pick the next house. And
here it is---right here!” (picture a church staple and bell tower) They flew in. They looked around.
“Isn’t it too big?” asked Mr. Bird. “I like this big place,” said Mrs. Bird. “This is the place to build our new
nest.”
They went right to
work. They need many things to
build their nest. First they got
some hay. They got some soda
straws and broom straws. They got
some sweater string. They got some stocking string and mattress stuffing. They got some horsehair. They got some man hair. Soon they had all the hay, all the
straw, all the string, all the stuffing, all the horsehair, and all the man
hair they could carry. They took
it all back to build their nest.
Mr. & Mrs. Bird worked
very hard. It took them the rest
of the morning to finish their nest.
“This nest is really the best!” said Mrs. Bird. “I want to stay here forever.” Mr. Bird was very happy too. He flew to the top of his house. He sang his song again: “I love our
house. I love our nest. In all the world our nest is best!”
He was so busy
singing. He didn’t even see Mr.
Parker coming. Every day at twelve
o’clock, Mr. Parker came to the church.
Mr. Parker came to pull a rope.
The rope went up to the Birds’ new nest. The rope rang the big bell right under Mrs. Bird’s
nest. Mrs. Bird got out of there
as fast as she could fly.
When Mr. Bird came in, all
he could see was a mess of hay and string and stuffing and horsehair and man
hair and straws. Where was Mrs.
Bird? “I will look for her until I
find her,” said Mr. Bird. He
looked high. He looked low. He looked everywhere for Mrs. Bird. He looked down into a chimney. But Mrs. Bird wasn’t there. He looked down into a water barrel. (picture horses around a water barrel)
But Mrs. Bird wasn’t there.
Then he saw a big fat
cat. There was a big fat smile on
the fat cat’s face. There were
some pretty brown feathers near the fat cat’s mouth. Mr. Bird began to cry.
“Oh, dear!” he cried. “This
big fat cat has eaten Mrs. Bird!”
Mr. Bird flew off. “I’ll never see Mrs. Bird again,” he
cried. It was getting dark. It began to rain. It rained harder and harder. Mr. Bird could not see where he was
going.
Crash! Mr. Bird bumped into something! It was his old house---that old, old
house that Mrs. Bird hated. “I’ll
go inside,” said Mr. Bird. “I’ll
rest here until the rain stops.”
Mr. Bird went in. And there was Mrs. Bird! Sitting here, singing! “I love my house. I love my nest. In all the world this nest is
best.”
“You! Here!” gasped Mr.
Bird. “I thought you hated this
old nest!”
Mrs. Bird smiled. “I used to hate it,” she said. “But a mother bird can change her
mind. You see there’s no nest like
an old nest for a brand-new bird!” (picture a small egg in the nest)
And when the egg popped
open, the new bird thought so too! (THE END)
Now back to the bird’s nest in the wreath on my front
door. When the wren first built
the nest integrating it with the wreath decor, there was debris on the floor of
the porch left from the nest building.
I noticed the debris a day before I discovered the nest, and could not
understand what happened to cause such a mess. I had no explanation.
The nest was difficult to see because the nest’s construction
incorporated the colors in the wreath.
It blended in so well--colors of brown straw, sticks, brown leaves,
feathery brown stuff from early spring tree foliage, and soft green and
yellowish moss. It also was a deep
nest much like a funnel as it rested against our dark red door. The nest was also built next to a
decorative musical symbol, a treble clef sign made of Mother of Pearl for which
I had hot-glued when the wreath was made to go on my office door.
At first I thought the nest-building bird had left the nest
and moved to a new location. There
were no eggs in the nest and no sign of the bird builders. Because of that, I
purchased some artificial birds and placed them around the nest to make an
additional decorative statement. I
place one of the artificial birds in the opening of the deep nest and one in
the bottom of the wreath away from the nest. The next day I noticed that the “fake” bird in the nest opening had moved a
little. How can that be? I moved it closer into the nest. Later on in the day, I noticed again
that the artificial bird had moved from the opening. My conclusion was there were birds planning to use the nest
as their home. I removed one of
the artificial birds leaving the nest opening accessible.
In a day or two I noticed a feathery mother bird sitting
deep in the nest with her feathers somewhat fluffed up as she sat motionless.
She blended so well inside the nest that it was difficult to see her. She would fly away when my wife, Pat
and I went in and out of the front door.
I soon saw four spotted white and brown eggs deep within the nest. After a few days the mother wren got
used to the door opening and closing, and she would remain on her nest as we
went back and forth through the door.
There was one big exception!! If you looked straight at the nest with
her eyes wide open looking straight at you, she would come out of her nest
quickly and fly to the nearest dogwood tree. Then she would make a continuous chirping sound.
I only noticed one bird around the nest, making me wonder if
there might be two working in shifts.
To my untrained eye, it would be difficult to distinguish between Mr.
Bird and Mrs. Bird. Eventually, a
spider web appeared over the nest as a canopy. I thought how appropriate that nature handiwork continues
and maybe even furnish food for the future little ones. But as days turned into weeks and weeks
into a month, there were still no baby birds. But Mrs. Bird was faithful to sit on the nest all day, only
to leave a very short period early in the morning. At this point I was fearful
that the eggs would not hatch because of the time frame since they were
laid. We probably disturbed the
mother bird to often in those early days of nesting, resulting in the eggs not
incubating.
Mrs. Bird must have gotten the message too because she has
not been seen for a few days now.
All that remains is the beautifully constructed nest and four tiny unhatched
eggs. This is not as nature
intended it to be. But what do you
expect when you build a nest on the front door. I plan to preserve the nest and its eggs as a reminder
of the good fortune and blessings of God on our home. There is one important lesson from all this—it is important
where you build your nest.
From my nest to yours, I hope that you can sing, “I love my
house, I love my nest, in all the world my nest is best.” I challenge you to build your nest on
the SOLID ROCK OF CHRIST, and not on the revolving door of this world. And stay faithful for HE is faithful.
Johnny Kilgore
