Nesting instinct

Last week at Bernheim Arboretum and Research Forest my AP roommate and I scurried through what looked like a giant bird's nest, a maze made of bent twigs. It was designed for smaller people so I had to stoop to get through (which seriously slowed down my scurrying). It was about as much fun as I've ever had in a giant nest.

However, I never once considered sleeping in it. 

Now comes word from the New York Times about the rise of twigitecture (read it here), or the art of building nests for human habitation. Some are made of found materials while others are more ornate (and pricey), but these nests look really cool. I can see using a human-sized bird's nest as a child's playhouse or as a daytime retreat, but I'm still not tempted to sleep in a nest. Birds line nests with bits of down and fluff to make them comfy, but there's not enough down and fluff to make me relax enough to sleep in a tree.

I have slept on the ground in the woods (in a tent, on an air mattress), but the great thing about sleeping on the ground is that you don't have far to fall--and if you happen to be subject to sleepwalking, falling is a constant concern. I once woke up to find myself standing on a chair and taking down my curtains, which means that I moved the chair and climbed up on it in my sleep. Try doing that in a nest up a tree. 

Beds are made for fools like me, but only birds can sleep in a tree.

Last year our Christmas wreath was decorated with a beautiful woven nest my husband found on a limb that blew down in a wind storm. It was a marvel of workmanship, a delicate little cup woven by a tiny creature without the benefit of higher education. For a bird, making a nest is hard work, and if the result looks like art, I am only too happy to admire it. But sleep in a nest? That's for the birds.