Bird nests and butterflies, both things I have collected unintentionally and by accident.
The first bird nest was extracted from a light fixture that was being repaired for a neighbor.
It was built wedged between the glass and the brass candelabra in a porch light.
It had been vacant for quite some time, it appeared, so I carefully took it out and
wrapped it in some packing paper to retain its shape.
The alternative was to be poked out by a stick and thrown in the garbage.
The second nest was sadly found in our trailer. We had a leak in the roof and had left the door open to air it out and these sweet birds took advantage and built their nest inside and laid eggs.
Unfortunately, we didn't know and didn't discover it until last winter.
My husband had brought it in, in gloved hands.
The eggs are so tiny, about the size of Robin Egg Easter candy.
I was saddened by this discovery. I could only imagine the frantic mother
desperately trying to get in. Poor thing.
Having purchased some glass domes that were sitting empty,
I knew these nests would be beautiful inside them.
Being able to study the intricacy of these constructed abodes without touching them
would be a great thing to teach the boys.
The butterflies were absolutely an accident.
Springtime in the South is prolific with many, many flying bugs, butterflies included.
After returning home one day after a trip to town, I happened to look outside and see
a bright yellow butterfly resting on my truck.
Permanently resting, that is.
Poor thing! I'm sure it didn't feel a thing.
The second one was pretty much a text book copy of the first.
Same destination and return, same situation.
I feel like a murderer.
Well, I decided to honor my victims and place them inside
each nest dome to live eternally.
Although beautiful, these displays are bittersweet to me
and a reminder of how fragile life is and how
it can be taken without a moments notice.
We live in such a rushed state, sometimes it's
good to slow down and pay attention to the little things.
The smell of a rose, the sight of flickering lightning bugs
or just the smell of your child's hair.
I hope you have an observant day. xo
The first bird nest was extracted from a light fixture that was being repaired for a neighbor.
It was built wedged between the glass and the brass candelabra in a porch light.
It had been vacant for quite some time, it appeared, so I carefully took it out and
wrapped it in some packing paper to retain its shape.
The alternative was to be poked out by a stick and thrown in the garbage.
The second nest was sadly found in our trailer. We had a leak in the roof and had left the door open to air it out and these sweet birds took advantage and built their nest inside and laid eggs.
Unfortunately, we didn't know and didn't discover it until last winter.
My husband had brought it in, in gloved hands.
The eggs are so tiny, about the size of Robin Egg Easter candy.
I was saddened by this discovery. I could only imagine the frantic mother
desperately trying to get in. Poor thing.
Having purchased some glass domes that were sitting empty,
I knew these nests would be beautiful inside them.
Being able to study the intricacy of these constructed abodes without touching them
would be a great thing to teach the boys.
The butterflies were absolutely an accident.
Springtime in the South is prolific with many, many flying bugs, butterflies included.
After returning home one day after a trip to town, I happened to look outside and see
a bright yellow butterfly resting on my truck.
Permanently resting, that is.
Poor thing! I'm sure it didn't feel a thing.
The second one was pretty much a text book copy of the first.
Same destination and return, same situation.
I feel like a murderer.
Well, I decided to honor my victims and place them inside
each nest dome to live eternally.
Although beautiful, these displays are bittersweet to me
and a reminder of how fragile life is and how
it can be taken without a moments notice.
We live in such a rushed state, sometimes it's
good to slow down and pay attention to the little things.
The smell of a rose, the sight of flickering lightning bugs
or just the smell of your child's hair.
I hope you have an observant day. xo
