There’s an old light fixture attached to the back of my house, way up high, underneath the eaves, and every spring that I’ve lived here, a robin has built a nest on top of the fixture, and every year I feel lucky that it is happening again.
In the morning, I go outside and look up and there she is—the robin, looking down at me.
I’ve learned that if I hold myself very, very still, she will go about her business, flying out and back, gathering things, ignoring me.
You can see her beak and her tail feathers in this picture.
You can see how snug and safe that nest is.
You can see how miracles are happening all over the place—right under our noses. Or above them.

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