Bobbing Along

In a rusted sphere of barbed wire, suspended like a forgotten crown of thorns, I watched a robin build her nest.

Safe from hawks, raccoons, and cats, she wove grass, fur, and moss into a fragile kingdom. Each trip she made with quiet resolve and certainty, pleased with her jagged sanctuary and mission.

She seemed not merely content, but radiant with purpose—steadfast, almost defiant in her joy. There was no hesitation in her small bright eyes. This was her chosen world: dangerous to all who would harm her, yet perfectly fitted to her need.

The very thing humanity had forged to hurt and separate had become, for her, an impenetrable fortress.

As I watched her, I wondered, what was the rest of the world doing?