
The nest is a village on the tree
The place where the smoke rises is the most lively scene in the courtyard of the village. The birds fly in the air and fly back to the nest on the tree when they are tired. The screaming birds screamed and the quiet trees in the village were vivid.
There are three or two nests on the branches, big or small, there are young birds in the nest, there are hard-fed females and males, and a nest is a home. Several vibrant nests became villages on the trees. Under the tree, the people in the village cultivated hope in the sunrise and sunset; on the tree, a group of flying birds crossed the sky, the bird’s nest is the trace of their habitat, and is the most proud decoration of the village.
Another village is hovering over the village. The two villages echo each other across the tree and live together. The brown nest is especially prominent in the greenery of the tree.
After reading the statistics of bird experts, it takes four or five days for a pair of gray magpies to nest. At least 600 times of dead branches, leaves, grass roots, cattle wool and mud groups are taken, including more than 250 dead branches and leaves. More than 150 times, grassroots more than 120 times, cattle wool more than 80 times, mud group more than 50 times.” Looking at the inconspicuous bird’s nest, turned out to be a big project. The birds traveled several times, and the leaves and leaves were interpreted in the hard work. The dead branches and grass roots are bricks and tiles. The mud is cement. The females and males are architects. The wind and rain, the comfortable nest is finally settled. However, the project is not over yet, and the bedroom is still in the nest. Taking the leaves as the bed and the hairy feathers as the bedding, the females and the males are on the riverside, in the canals, in the fields, holding the shackles of the future, raising their eyebrows, and screaming in the building’s love nest. In this affectionate side-by-side battle, A new life has been born. When a young bird is squatting in the nest, the village on the tree is full of excitement. It is the joy of life and the good news of reproduction.
When I was young, I was curious about the bird’s nest in the tree. The small mischievous eggs in the village are more than three feet to the eggs. There used to be a small partner, barefooted, squatting up the tree, legs crossed on the tree stalks, reaching out to ostrich eggs in the nest, and screaming out, showing off to us under the tree Then, carefully put it in the pocket, until the bird’s nest is hollowed out, and then slide down the tree with satisfaction. Oval bird eggs or pure white or dodged with stars are the yearning for the children. However, the returning birds, disappeared from the children in the nest, stood on the big tree and screamed miserably, one after another, the village on the tree was shuddering, and the village under the tree was crying. The naughty baby finally understood that a bird’s egg is a small life, so under the education of adults, the eggs are returned. The village on the tree and the village under the tree are in harmony.
Later, I left the village and went to many places. The reinforced concrete in the city is cold and ice, there are few nests, and it is difficult to see the villages on the trees.
One year, I saw a magpie nest on a big tree in the suburbs. A magpie stood on the branch and screamed hard, but he always felt that the magpie’s voice was too harsh, bowed, and suddenly looked There was a black magpie lying on the ground, his mouth was half open, his mouth was still bloody, his eyes were closed, his two small claws were bent, the wind was blowing, his feathers were spinning, and he could no longer comb himself. The feathers can no longer afford to come to the Bird’s Nest to meet with their lover. I understood the constant wailing of the magpies in the tree, which was the summoning and mourning of my loved ones. A solitary bird’s nest, a solitary magpie, no village under the tree, a tree, a nest, a bird, no more harmony in the village. The nest was cold, and after a few days of screaming, it was no longer seen, and the empty nest was full of desolate.
Fortunately, every spring, the swallows of Nanfei will remember the way home, and there are swallows nesting under the eaves. In the sound of the swallows, the villages on the trees are bustling again, and the birds begin to build. The new nest gives birth to new life.

