The Magpie's Nest

I have noticed that the nest lies empty now. I realised yesterday that the Magpies no longer come.

For weeks that have tended to it. I've watched them come and go with twigs and makeshift materials to build it. I've noticed how perfectly it is executed. I did wonder when the rain was heavy why they built it in a bare tree, it feels like it's more explosed and the wind would push through it and break it apart. As I watch though, I see that the rain falls through the gaps so meticulously tended to. I see how the tree, without it's leaves, does not sway as much as those trees who are full of foliage. These birds are clever. I've come to know them. I talk the them when I see them. I thought maybe I should try feeding them. Itried dried dog food but it was too big and rejected. I broke it up, but he almost seem to shake his head as if to say "she has no idea". So I gave the food game away and watched as they buried their beaks in the dirt and plucked them free with a worm or bug in it's grasp.

I miss them, those Magpies.

They had become such a part of my day, but I don't know how many days ago it was they stopped coming. I noticed it yesterday and it's making my heart ache.

I have questions, so many. The obvious one is why? I think their mating must have failed, their eggs did not grow as planned. Maybe another Magpie took to the nest and destroyed them. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

I now fill my days with questions because there are so many. My head is filled with questions and a low voice that speaks under them now. It says. Cancer. You have it. Breast Cancer. Breast cancer. Breast Cancer. The whisper is inaudible but the most deafening voice I have ever heard. It wakes me in a panic at 3am. I wake. I breathe. I breathe again. The breaths are too deep, too fast, there are too many. I think maybe I should put a paper bag by my bed for the next night in case these breaths, this overwhelm envelopes me again.

But last night it was tears. I woke and cried and sobbed. My husband's arm gently wrapped around me. He didn't have to speak. He just let me go. There isn't anything he can say.

People say there is bravery here. There isn't. It's not brave. There is nothing you can do but follow along some path that is laid out before you. I'm sure there are twists and choices, left or right, at some point. Maybe these choices will be the difference, Maybe they won't. I don't know anything yet. I don't even know how bad it is. I hope this single little nugget they found is the only one. I hope. I hope. I hope. I hope.

Meanwhile the Mapgie's nest is being pulled apart by other birds. It is visited by Magpies', but not mine. They stick their beaks in it's guts and tear away the soft comfort my birds planted there with so much care. It's so deep that I was hardly able to see them in there building it. But their tail feathers were just above the rim, and I could see them.

I miss them, those Magpies.