And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.
~ Antoine de Saint-Exupery
The Little Prince
I have always loved handmade cards, frames, photo books, scrapbooks, baskets, bookmarks, paintings, pictures, jewelry and sculptures. Special people create objects using their hands, and minds. Hours are spent getting it right; each one original, to be given to another person to admire, hold and love. A gift made from the heart.
And that’s why I love bird nests.
Bird nests – found over time, forgotten.
Resting on the ground, deserted, hiding in pergolas, abandoned on tree branches.
The size of my thumb, my hand, or larger.
Assorted sticks and dried leaves bound together with mud, remnants of colorful ribbons, pale yellow grasses, crumbly leaves, hair and soft fur.
Always sturdy and made to last.
Circular in form; woven pieces of nature.
Hours are spent getting it right; each one original.
Cradles holding baby birds; fragile wings stretched in contentment.
A gift made from the heart.
A valentine nest made by a mother and father robin.
The mother constructing it, the father bringing twigs.
Using mud she outlined the top of the nest in the shape of a heart.
A message of love.