Nests

This morning, as the dogs and I took our walk around the outskirts of my small college on the hill, I saw two crows, large as black cats with wings, chasing squirrels across the tops of several trees.

Were the crows protecting their nest from the squirrels, which are known to eat small birds? Or were the crows hunting for breakfast, opting for live squirrels rather than road kill? I guess I'll never know, although it's probably the former.

Still, the thought of the large-as-cats crows protecting their nests reminded me of nesting, and of how important having a nest, a place to call my own, is to me.

This crazy-busy semester ends Friday and so ends my weekly commute between households, which has now been going on for almost 10 months. Between the small city and the tiny village, between the large house and the tiny apartment, between the place where my husband and the cats remain and where I and dogs travel to.

Lately, it's gotten harder and harder to leave either place. When I have to leave the large house, I hate the idea of leaving my husband and cats behind. But when it comes time to leave this apartment, I also hate leaving my routine here, the peace and quiet of the woods, and the dogs hate leaving behind the super-comfy dog beds that their self-appointed fairy godmother (my friend and colleague who teaches the eighteenth century) gave them.

For a person who loves nesting (my living spaces have always been very important to me), it's become increasingly less fun to divide myself between two nests, which at this point don't really feel like they're altogether mine. The house has to remain "staged" for selling, so it no longer feels much like home (more like we're stewards of the place), while this apartment is actually furnished with Dr. S's beautiful things so it doesn't feel like my own place either.

By week's end, I'll be packing up myself and the dogs again and heading back to the large house, all the time hoping that someone will come along sooner rather than later, who'll love it the way we've loved it, and will want to have it as their own.

In the meantime, and until we sell the large house, I'll just have to work on cultivating the little patience I have in my psychic arsenals, while I dream of the time when I'll have my nest again to love and cherish, like the crows, big as black cats, that chase the squirrels across the tree tops near my tiny apartment in the woods.