Outside the bedroom, a flash of red alighted in the Wolf’s Eye dogwood tree. In its upward-reaching branches, an old bird’s nest from the summer was still intact, nestled snugly in the crux of the three wooden spokes. Two cardinals perched in the mottled architectural flourishes of the little tree. The pair of them – one vibrant and crimson, the other more muted in softer hues of mauve and gray – were beautiful against the dull shades of winter. Both were a sight to behold. They chirped to one another while the brighter of the two fussed with the old nest. I didn’t think birds re-used the nests of other birds, but what do I know? It makes sense, I guess, particularly if one has proven able to withstand the whipping winds of this blustery year and hasn’t been ripped to the ground. The cardinals didn’t seem to be looking to move in completely, just visiting and inspecting.
Of course, that’s what Andy and I were doing when we ended up getting our home almost 15 years ago. I hope these birds are half as lucky.
