Sitting in the garden one day in a dreamy state of late pregnancy I noticed a honeyeater busily making a nest in a young native frangipani tree, just above my eye level. Day after day I watched her flitting in and out of the tree , chattering, building the structure with certainty and skill. I found the intimacy of my vantage point joyful and calming and treasured this time of shared pursuit as I, too, was ‘nesting’ inside the house.
Preoccupied with the arrival of my new baby, it was a while later when I noticed a broken white shell under the tree and the tatty, abandoned nest, and realised, sadly, the honeyeater’s charges may not have arrived safely after all.
Liz Hetzel
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