Warmth

The enormous tree, eaten from the inside in a matter of seconds, collapses into the neighbor's yard. I run over to see if any interesting animals might emerge from the branches. Miraculously preserved atop the wreckage sits a delicate bird's nest. Twelve tiny birds lie inside; not bug-eyed, pinfeathered hatchlings, but perfectly proportioned miniature crows huddling against the cold of midwinter. The next time I glance up I see that all around me are crows tending their nests in the snow. When they leave to hunt, they cover their nests in oversized garish tea-cozies.