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The Fung Shui of a fledglings nest
Every year, when I arrive at the Colorado Renaissance Festival, wild birds have colonized the rafters with a nest or two, filled with eggs.
One day, we find a blue egg broken on the floor below the last nest. Later, four little chicks hatch, and a riot of chirping ensues each time the parents fly in to feed them. For a time, Daddy finch, red breasted and diligent, brings food. Mama finch keeps up the heroic effort, long after the dad has disappeared.
On the weekend, we lay out our jewelry, dress up in Renaissance garb, and converse with the crowds. Mama finch flies into our booth, between costumed heads and the ornate roof. Tweet freaking tweet, all sales stop for a moment as Mama regurgitates into peeping throats of intrepid chicks.
I get codependent with these little beings, worrying about their future. How will they survive amongst the many hazards that await, the crows that flock, the cats. It's nerve wracking.
The next weekend, the birds are ready to fledge, yet crowds abound. I worry. Luckily, they wait till monday, and take off, one by one, leaving the nest empty, and the booth is alive with happy flying little birds. Even red breasted Papa arrives for the big event.
I am told that in fung shui, the nest was situated in the public recognition, reputation and esteem section of the booth, a propitious place for new life to emerge. Precious emeralds, sparkly alexandrite, passionate rubies find new homes. On the peak of my shoppe's tower, a baby finch sings a joyful tune.
I hope I handle it better next year.
