Morning light spilled over the tree at the edge of the meadow.
Linnet landed on a fork of branches with a twig in her beak and tucked it into place.
But the breeze flipped it out and sent it spinning down. “Oh!” chirped Linnet, hopping after it.
Down below, the meadow grass swished in the new sun. Linnet snatched up another twig and started again.
Twig after twig, Linnet wove and pressed. Then she patted in one soft feather.
Boing! A curly vine sprang loose and bopped her right on the beak.
Linnet blinked. The branch rustled. The vine wiggled like it was laughing. “Cheep,” said Linnet, and pulled it back.
She flew to the meadow edge for bits of grass, a pale string, and one tiny leaf.
Back and forth she went as the sky turned gold. Place, tuck, turn.
Inside the growing nest, the chicks peeped and listened while Linnet sang the world awake.
Peep-peep-peep! Their little voices made Linnet work even faster.
At last, Linnet set the very last twig across the rim.
For one wobbling second, the whole nest tipped.
Linnet spread her wings, braced her feet, and held very still. A dew drop slid off a leaf.
Then the nest settled firm and round.
Linnet stepped into the finished nest and folded close around the chicks.
She sang a soft morning song. The chicks answered with tiny squeaks, and the new nest gave a gentle rustle.
Together they greeted the day from their snug little home.
