​there was a weaver bird that took residence on the tree just overlooking my room. I watched it patiently build a nest … and then the heavens opened up and the rains came and in the deluge something happened. I don’t see the weaver bird, flitting around anymore. Perhaps the oblivious random machinations of nature wreaked havoc on my friends little nest. 

needless to say I miss my friend and can only hope it it soaring the skies, whilst building a new home. 

soar ever higher and near always free, my friend …