NESTING INSTINCT

MY partner found this walking the dog last week. It had been spied at eye height in a turpentine tree in bushland near where we live befo...




MY partner found this walking the dog last week. It had been spied at eye height in a turpentine tree in bushland near where we live before Christmas. We think the nesting bird laid eggs and abandoned them and this week the nest, partially decayed, dropped from the tree and was brought home for the family to inspect. It’s held together with spider web and we’re still deciding whether the moss and lichen adorning the exterior were for decoration – some kind of mating display – insulation or handy construction materials.

The feathers? They’re part of a collection I am amassing. They’re everywhere. Tucked behind notes on the notice board, in diaries, in my sketchbook, in a tray of my rings and bracelets, in vases – I even added feathers to a quasi-funeral bouquet late last year. I’ve been keeping an eye out for just the right flat-ish bowl or basket to hold them all. Something organic, muted tones, second-hand – I’ll know it when I find it.

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