When I was a little girl our summers were spent by the ocean on the Virginia Coast. We often stayed in a small bungalow guesthouse on the beach. The guesthouse is gone now – sad seashore. One evening, after swimming and swimming in the sea, I came, so tired, into the little court yard entrance with it's tiny pond full of lotus flowers. There, near the path, was a fallen nest. Inside were little baby birds.

My Mamma, so beautiful, so kind, helped me carry the little nest into my room. It was getting dark outside and we shouldn't leave them on the ground like that. The nest was all wrapped in a towel and placed very carefully on the night-stand next to my bed. I watched and watched the little birds. I didn't want to sleep, I needed to keep watch. I wondered if we would find their mother.

In the morning I woke up because something was tickling my neck. My hair is dark auburn brown. Mamma says it is like a horse's mane, with enough hair for three more people. I can feel everything through my hair, my million million antennas. When I swim in the sea it tickles my back like feathers. I can feel the wind and the closeness of another person. When I sleep, I throw it behind me across my pillow. Sometimes when I have been playing and playing it becomes tangled and full of knots. Then only a whiskbroom will brush it smooth again. And even then, sometimes the knots have to be cut out.

This morning, I could hear the sound of the waves rushing up the shore. Still sleepy, I felt the tickle again and a little pressing against my head. Curious. Another murmur of movement. Slowly I reached up into my thick mat of hair. Oh, I knew what it was! I remembered the little birds from yesterday. Yes! Yes! They had! They had made a nest in my hair, in the night while I slept. And they were just now waking up!