Happy Solstice My Dear Readers - -
Thinking about nests and nesting.1
A nest: a structure or place made or chosen by a bird for laying eggs and sheltering its young (or a wasp…).2
To Nest: To fit compactly within one another. To embed, as Russian dolls or these bowls; To build or occupy a nest.3
I wonder, would this blue drain be considered a nest for this wayward plant? It certainly seems like a cozy and protected place to grow (especially since it’s located in the middle of a city).4
As a young child I used to climb among those crowded forsythia branches (behind the swing) in the early spring and find a protected ‘nest’ for myself.5
As I sit here in our new home, trying to create a new nest for my family, I couldn’t resist looking at images from our old house. I’ll never forget the robin who found this perch on our front porch or the chair by the window in my first studio in our basement. I loved the light and the view.6
Lest nostalgia consume, I grabbed my camera earlier today and started playing with objects and light in our new place.
I was blown away by how helpful it was to look at each “scene” through my camera’s lens - - what seemed like a fun arrangement to the naked eye, was a cluttered overwhelming mess within my Fuji’s frame.
Each of these scenes, for example, was the result of an extensive iterative process.
And so our nesting begins. One object here, another there.
I’m not a bird and these treasures are not eggs. They are, however, essential parts of our home’s character. Just as each bird has its own technique for weaving a holding place for its young, so too do each one of us have our own unique combinations of things that make us feel ‘just right.’
It was almost two decades ago that I created this nest-like ‘container’ for my young children. I had such fun weaving each branch, trying so hard to create a ‘safe space’ in a yard that at that time felt overwhelming and expansive.
A ‘cozy place’ can take many forms indeed!
These two glorious humans will be home next week. There’s snow, it’s cold, and we are in an entirely new place. I hope the combinations of ‘stuff’ I am playing with this week feel like home to them.
Thankfully the narcissus are in full bloom, reminding me of every home I’ve known.7 And there are grapefruit in the compost, a reminder of the only home they’ve ever known.
As always, thank you for sharing your time and this space with me.
Please take good care during the next few weeks, and lean into this time of rest wherever you like to nest. I’ll see you again in 2025!!
With gratitude for you being you,
Lyn
If you’ve been reading 13 Tons of Love for a while, you know I moved this year from New Hampshire to Vermont…and that there have been a lot of other transitions as well - - like our daughter finishing college, our truly becoming ‘empty nesters’ and our dog dying…all in addition to letting go of a life we created for 22 years.
This has also been the first full calendar year of 13 Tons of Love…and it still feels like an experiment, filled with meanderings here and there.
I look forward to finding my rhythm in 2025…especially as I approach my 60th Birthday next November - - Hope you’ll stick around for the ride!
We found this early Wasp’s nest inside our grill this past summer.
We are still unpacking…where to put all our wonderful bowls? For now, this corner works just fine. I wonder how long they’ll remain here?
I was in New Orleans last week for the New Orleans Photo Alliance annual Photo NOLA Portfolio Reviews. It was an incredible experience and I am so grateful to have been in that amazing city!
It’s remarkable that there is still a swing in that spot - - my father put one up for us in 1970 when we moved there…when I visited again in 2006, the swing and forsythia were still there. So comforting.
It seems that while preparing this post, I got distracted by keywords in Lightroom and searched for ‘cozy place’ and ‘birds’ - - both of which are, of course, associated with nests. I have to be careful, though, because those keyword associations can take a person down some crazy paths!!
Narcissus are a thing in our family. My grandmother always had them this time of year on the table by the window between her dining room and her living room. I can smell them, and her house, just looking at them. My sister, aunts and cousins all force narcissus this time of year as well. I feel bad for people who can’t stand the smell. For me, their scent is heaven.
You have fluffed-up my mental pillows and added an extra layer of cozy as we get ready for the cold snap this weekend. Still savoring -- thank you for sharing your heart forward writing with all of us. Beaming Big Nesting Hugs
Lovely post as you transition into your new nest. Both letting go and taking hold with your narcissus and camera leading the way. Wishing your winter solstice the first of many in your new home.