Last week there was a terrible wind storm. I actually woke up at 3am from the sound of wind (I know, crazy) and truly thought the house may fall down. We didn't think much about it until the next day when our neighbour informed us that a piece of our roof was hanging loose. I don't know much about the names of house parts, but I believe it was the "flashing". We quickly enlisted the help of Pop to repair the damage. Poor Pop, having to do repair work on a 35 foot roof! That evening I took Oliver for a walk, and on my way back up the driveway I couldn't help but notice the little bird's nest in our tree. This summer we watched the birds build this little nest. Julian loved to see them flying about from his bedroom window. One summer day a baby bird, still unable to fly, fell out of the nest. I was quite distraught when I saw the mother trying to protect the baby bird on the ground, so I put on a pair of gloves, and climbed up a ladder, baby bird in hand, to return her to the nest. As I walked to the door with Oliver I couldn't help but think about how big we are, how big our house is, how our house is made of wood and metal and nails, and it somehow still isn't quite strong enough. Then there is this tiny nest, made of twigs and pieces of string, standing just as it did when it was built seven months ago.