Last year, I hung a fern on my porch. It was my first foray into hanging baskets. I’m a reluctant gardener with a sometimes black thumb. But I love flowers and greenery, so I got a hanging fern for my birthday and I tucked it into the corner and watered it mostly faithfully. And then one day, I discovered it contained a bird’s nest. The fern eventually died and the babies flew away and my porch was empty of plant life.
This year, we planted a garden and potted some herbs, and I desperately wanted another fern, so I got one. And a sweet older couple from church gave me a hanging pansy plant for my birthday. I moved the fern to a different spot on the porch, and hung the pansy in the same spot the fern had occupied last year. I watered faithfully, all the plants, and felt somewhat confident in my attempts to keep things alive.
Then the birds returned.
Read the rest at Putting on the New, where I post on the 12th of each month.