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A House of NestsĀ 

Jun 01, 2023
A House of Nests

A House of Nests 

 © Ariana Strozzi Mazzucchi, 2023

I can’t help but write about the numerous finch nests all around my house. 

Couple #1, I’ll call the Singers, appeared one early spring morning determined to make a nest. Miss Singer really wanted to nest in my elk fern. 

“It will make a perfect nest.” She chirped. 

            Mr. Singer supported her every decision, singing her the most delightful love song as she wove small blades of drying grasses with whisps of horse hair. 

I was deeply touched, I couldn’t stop listening and watching their mating ritual. 

 The only problem was, the notch in the upper end of the elk fern is where I have to water the fern. The fern sets just above our small outdoor coach under the eave of the back patio. Dogs, cats, people in and out all day long, I was quite surprised she was so committed to such a busy area. I needed to dissuade her from this nest and entice her with a new one. 

I made a wool nest with the same size opening and adorned it with beads, shells and an abalone shell. I placed it right next to the elk fern and lo and behold she chose this wool nest. I’m not sure if it was the turquoise beads or seashells or just the lure of wool. Either way, I was happy she had chosen this new nest. 

 As she brought little blades of grass, I was impressed with how dedicated she was to making the perfect nest. Each edition she made, she fussed, pressed, and pushed the blades of grass into a deep round nest. Mr. Singer continued his love song each time she wove another blade into her little wool nest. 


Meanwhile couple #2, the Pickers, made the perfect little nest in a corner of the house near the kitchen window. Simple, direct and to the point, Miss Picker wove her nest as Mr. Picker perched with pride on the nearby trellis. It just so happened to be in an old apple picker that was propped up on the corner wall in the shade of the eaves of the house. Mr. Picker perched on the rose trellis and watched Mrs. Picker fly back and forth from the fields to the nest bringing new materials. No song? Maybe he was a younger male I wondered? 

The next day, I saw a new red finch pair looking for a nest site. The female was quite dainty and the male’s red chest was not as bright as Mr. Singers. I made another nest by hanging my favorite teapot from the gutter drain by our bedroom door. It had a chip on the spout and couldn’t be used for its original purpose, but it was beautifully painted and I was waiting to find a new purpose for it. 

I put a base of moss from the old grandmother tree at the bottom of the teapot. Low and behold the new pair chose the teapot. I’ll name them the Potters. What struck my curiosity was that Mr. Potter was the one bringing the heavy blades of grass to the nest so Mrs. Potter could press, and fuss the tangle of blades into the perfect round nest. He was just as dedicated as Mr. Singer, but how he chose to support the future mama bird was different. 

It made me ponder on how we humans work together or not to make our metaphoric nests as we ready for the baby’s arrival. The  nest we are building now, may be a new project. Some papa’s sing love songs, some build the cradle, some simply hold the space as mama makes sure the nest can provide a safe haven for their young. I have to admit I love the love songs outside my window and watching the pair work together for the benefit of their family and unseen visitors. 

Are you building a nest for your future? If so, what intention and creative inspiration are you putting into it?

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