I am sitting on our lower patio. Through the thick undergrowth separating our lawn from the river bank, I spy glimpses of the river flowing past. Occasionally, I hear the voices of rafters and kayakers floating past. Their laughter fills the air, as welcome as the birdsong in the trees. Above the sky is blue. I hear the hum of city traffic. It forms part of the melody of life flowing all around me.
In the beam supporting our upper deck, the mother robin has built another nest. She sits quietly above while I sit on the couch about 8 feet away from her. She is nurturing a new brood while I savour the joy of her presence and the miracles upon which she so patiently sits.
It was last Saturday we noticed the possibility of a new nest being built. A few twigs on the supporting beam. Lots of grasses and twigs strewn along the edge of the patio. “I think she’s building her next nest,” my beloved said.
I was a bit perplexed; First we gave up our front door, making guests come through the garage. Now, she wants me to give up the lower patio?
Sunday morning I came downstairs to check if C.C. was right. He was. The nest was completely constructed.
“We are going to have to find a way to cohabit,” I told mama bird when I saw her sitting on the edge of one of my flower pots.
She didn’t answer. But, she didn’t fly away either.
It was mostly a rainy week and as the finches have flown the nest on our upper deck, what time we did spend outdoors, we spent there.
And then this morning, I decided I needed to blow the leaves and such off the patio, put out the cushions and settle in for a day of relaxation in the shade beneath the upper deck.
Mama robin was in situ.
I didn’t notice her at first. I thought she might have abandoned the nest last weekend when she realized we were frequent visitors to the area.
I tell myself she got my message about cohabitation.
I used the blower to clear off the patio. She didn’t move.
I put the pillows out. She stayed put.
A neighbour came over to chat. We stood on the lawn near where she’s roosting. She still didn’t move.
I tell myself it’s because she knows she’s safe here. That I believe in magic and miracles. That I celebrate the mystery of life.
Every moment in life counts, I tell her from my nearby perch. And these moments, I whisper to her still quiet body, these moments spent in your presence make this moment pregnant with the mystery of life.
I am grateful.
A mama robin nests in the rafters above where I sit, reminding me once again that life is always full of mystery, magic and miracles.