“Ohmygosh!  Look up in the pine tree!”, I caught myself screaming in a shrill voice to my husband.  His back was turned away since he was focused on the rumpled banners curled around the flagpole.  We had just returned from a springtime walk down Dorna Lane.  The country air was refreshingly crisp and still slightly cool.  It was the kind of evening where the darkened shadows of leafless trees balefully resembled Slender Man peering out from within the woods on the edge of the stream.  And now this.  Bobbing above a low branch over the split rail fence hung an enormous, gray, teardrop nest.  It’s intimidation was boldly apparent.  Logic and Common Sense became our allies.  Since the weather had been frigidly cold these past few months, its residents were probably evicted last Fall after the first hard freeze.  Still, there’s something ominous about recognizing a vestige of nature.