Who lives here within the skirts of the deodar cedar?
I found this Audubon box nestled in an environmentally-protected park and let my imagination run. No clues came from surrounding sounds:
crows caw, ducks yak-yak,
thrum of water over stone,
It’s early for nesting, of course, but looking at the tiny, empty home made me remember the excited sensation I had as a kid whenever I discovered some secret place where an animal or fairy might live.
Places-we-live is on my mind a lot lately. I’ve moved my mother to a board-and-care, because her condition deteriorated and she needs 24-hour care. I spend half my time at my home and half at hers, where I’m sifting through a lifetime of memories, good and bad.
Can a home be built of memories? I think it can.