Lining the Nest, collage/acrylic, 6 x 6
Elizabeth W. Seaver
The weather turned out lovely, but the winds blew something fierce overnight. Mildred, Philbert and Auntie Prudence had a frantic time keeping little Orin safe. In hindsight, perhaps it wasn't the best idea to have built the nest in a pocket of a dress hung on a clothesline, but while nest shopping, Phil and Mil had watched the garment for a week and no one ever came back to take it down. There it hung, a haven in soft rosy pink. It seemed the perfect place to lay the egg of their one chick.
Mildred fussed at Auntie Prudence, "You are the one who is supposed to keep us from doing something dumb!"
Prudence grumbled around the clothes pin in her mouth, "I knew it would end up being my fault."
"What was that?" Mildred asked suspiciously.
"I'm not the one who laid an egg in a pocket," Prudie replied waspishly when she had gotten one side of the dress fixed back on the line, "What is wrong with the time honored twig nest in the tree, I'd like to know? And may I get some help here? Honestly, what would you all do without me?"
Phil cleared his throat, "Well, obviously, Prudie, we'd be at the end of our rope."