It looks to be made mostly of thin strips of birch bark. But there are bits of blue speckled paper, adding a subtle decorative touch. Who lived here? Who worked so hard to create this small treasure to rear their young in? Will they be back this spring? Or do they start from scratch each and every season? Are they born knowing how to weave?
Remember the first time you held yarn in one hand, a crochet hook in the other and chained your first chain. Think about that first awkward casting on to knitting needles or your attempt to knit the first row. Yarn too tight, yarn too loose, needles stabbing fiber, the air and you. Now imagine doing it all while hovering in the air, wings beating, a shred of birch bark between your lips.