Nest and Niche

Writing last week about tents got me thinking about other temporary structures, shelters put up just for a day or a few weeks. Like those hip urban pop-up restaurants that appear and disappear overnight. Or a funky lean-to made from driftwood on a happy beach afternoon and abandoned to the tides.

And birds’ nests. Lovingly built for breeding and birthing and babysitting and then left behind for the inevitable fledging and migration. (The nest may be used next year, but it most likely will need some serious renovation.)

So here’s a piece I wrote originally for my other weekly column, “Blue Theology Tide-ings,” where I reflect on coasts and oceans, and, as I do with “Building Blocks” the dreams and metaphors and images that water can inspire.

When a bird builds a nest, if creates at once a birth bowl, a baby basket, and a breakfast nook.

Twice, as I recovered from major surgery, I made camp for weeks on our cozy fireside daybed, and called it my “nest.” For this old bird, my nest was also a safe healing place.

California brown pelicans once nested up and down the west coast, including at Point Lobos. But the pesticide DDT made their eggshells so fragile they collapsed under their mother’s weight. By 1970 biologists found only 600 nests and only on Anacapa Island in the Channel Islands. It took decades of political pressure to outlaw DDT, wait for streams and oceans to clear and clean, watch the birds nests on the islands, and keep all people away.

But last year – nearly 6000 nests. Conservation works, if you work it.

And here on the Monterey Peninsula, where pelicans spend the winter, and then head back south for baby time, they have been exhibiting for several years what biologists call “pre-nesting behavior.” That is, they might be coming back here to stay year round. Like sea otters, whose range also shrank to almost nothing because of human greed, and which now extends hundreds of miles, might the pelicans rebuild their baby bowls this far north?

The French word for nest is “niche.” Nous disons “niche” aussi en Anglais, meaning “sheltered place, a recess in a wall.” Or “a habitat supplying all that is needed for an organism to exist.” Or “a place, employment, status or activity for which a person or thing is best fitted. “ My niche, my nest, where I am birthed, fed, healed, protected, and where I thrive.

Copyright © 2015 Deborah Streeter