Because Of Our Church Duck

Doesn't summertime feel like an excellent opportunity for nesting? You know, for preparing a place for your next year's class, and then just sitting around and waiting. The second definition of the word nest is a place to rest, retreat, or lodge; the first one, of course, references the bed that a bird makes for its young. I guess today I'm thinking about both, and it's all 

because of this duck.

Meet our church duck. She built her nest right outside of the window near the pew where we typically sit on Sunday mornings. Our pew. Our duck. And, when we probably should be paying attention to the sermon instead of the duck, we've enjoyed the last few Sunday visits immensely more because we get to watch her nest. It's such great fun to try to get inside of her thoughts as she rotates a full 180 during the hour that we're there and tends to her impending family. For now, they're just eggs, five of them, and it's so cool how she periodically rotates them with her beak to give them equal time, I suppose, in certain spots while she keeps them safe and warm. One day they'll be ducklings, real live offspring, ready to live and learn from her. To experience life, following her, and then to leave the nest to live on their own. But not right now. 

For now, she's just sitting, patiently waiting, nonchalantly nesting.

As the sun moves across the southern sky, it's hot and she's sweating. But that doesn't ruffle the feathers of this mama duck. She's busy, in a laid back sort of way, getting ready for her little quackers. She's practicing patience and learning to just be. To be okay with waiting. To just be. To rest, to retreat, to prepare lodging for her little ones. To be ready for them. To just be.

So today I woke up thinking about our church duck. 

And wondering about nesting. 

And working on being that patient.