In these dark winter days, glimpses of the promise of a brighter spring are solace.
Salvaging a nest from a tree in a storm I felt both guilty, (would the maker return next spring?) and elation at the wondrous talents of such a small creature. Nests always bring me inexplicable joy.
The rusty bedspring was washed ashore – tiny shells and pebbles entwined.
Both nest and bedspring evoke home.