Field Notes (Follow the Greening Road)

This is the field across the street from our house.  Lovely, isn't it?

A new nest rests
in the pine tree now.  
The Mourning Dove
and her eggs are gone.  

Too early for the eggs to have hatched, 
we wonder what happened -
a snake? the hawks? or
some other unsavory villain?  

Her nest was flat and open, 
gently curved like a palm, 
an open hand 
she sat upon. 
What's left looks flimsy now, 
oddly broken twigs 
like a child's game 
of pick-up sticks.  

The new one – a Robin’s nest – 
stands nearly five inches high, built 
like a fortress, with thick, 
heavy walls.  
It lies on the
North side of the tree 
and slightly more hidden 
than the Dove's was on the south.  

In the farm field across the road, 
a strip of grass grows 
greener by the day.  
Stretched like a runner 
beneath a line of trees
that march single-file toward 
the distant mountains,
empty fields spread on either side.
We're waiting to see what will
be planted, what will
come of it all. 

We build and plant and 
hope for the best, 
learning as we go:

Build your nest 
on the North side, 
high and strong.  

Plant when the danger 
of frost has passed.  

Follow the greening road 
home – always.


  1. This is beautiful in its descriptiveness, Kelly. We have many nests in the trees around us, but few that are low enough for me to pay special attention to as you have. I love how you notice the differences in position and build of the two nests, and how you apply that to the constructing that we do every day in our own lives. I so appreciate a fellow nature contemplative :-)