I pull my flip flops from the closet and notice a dullness of the sequins that were once sparkly. I dust them off, scoot them on, and head out to my back yard. The sun feels good on my toes after winter’s end. All is well with my soul. The birds are screeching for me to fill the feeder with more seed. Two of them barely avoid flying into my face as they are busy fighting for their right to a mate. I notice the birds have been stealing sphagnum moss from a hanging Staghorn plant. They have left me a giant hole to fill. The bird bath is full of partially eaten worms, no doubt left there accidentally while they were getting a drink. One lone feather floats there too. I see that the birds have left their poop all over my swing that sits under a big oak tree. What a mess! I fill up the bird feeder with more seed, check. I drag out the water hose to wet a bucket of sphagnum moss. I need to replace the missing moss in my hanging planter, check. I wash out the bird bath and put in fresh water, check. Now my flip flop sequins are dirty again and I’ve spent too much time on these birds. I’m frustrated and a bit angry, especially about the poop. I think, THIS IS CRAZY! Why do I do this anyway? Then, I spot a loan nest in my crepe myrtle tree. It’s a tiny one left over from last year. I pull it down from the bare branches to inspect it closer; there were not any eggs. The nest fascinates me. I have a habit of emptying the contents of the vacuum cleaner outside and the prior owners of this nest used those contents for nesting materials. I notice tiny strands of silver and blonde hairs woven throughout the dry, grass structure. I examine it even closer and discover a pleasant surprise. It’s my hair! This is exciting! I even feel honored and privileged somehow. My hair cradled those baby birds that were there last year. I have a new treasure to keep. All is well with my soul again!