Every Spring, Mr and Mrs Love[bird] come to my front porch for a visit. They move in above the front door, gathering up twigs and other random fluff to create a nice little nesting place for their young.
However, a nest built directly above any home’s front door is not probably not the best-placed location for the laying of little rollie-pollie eggs. Every year, despite my request for all to enter and exit quietly, and use the garage door if available, eggs are dropped on the doorstep.
When we come home to find the egg yoke and half of the nest on the doorstep, we are saddened. Above the door, there is nothing left but a few twigs. And we are left with only the images of Mr and Mrs Love painstaking efforts to build a future.
These images of birds building a family each spring is more than just that for me. Watching them each year reawakens my own experience with raising little ones. I watch them and remember the excitement and possibility of bringing young chicks into the world, watching them as they learn to spread their wings and take flight, and although the path they take is never quite what you dreamed for them, it is their creation — and that is good.