It was useless to the birds. No one needed it. But I loved its careful workmanship (workbirdship isn’t a word, is it?), the birdbrained engineering that curved the nest bottom to fit the branches and the nest insides to fit the birds. I couldn’t possibly build a nest. I’d start with a messy pile of twigs and end up with a messier pile of twigs.
So I kept it on the little desk outside the front door. Perhaps some folks thought it was trash, but I preferred to think of it as decoration.
I know it is spring again because the birds are back at it. The same birds, or other ones, have pillaged the failed nest. One side is all exploded out as a determined beak or two grabbed just the right thread or stick. Life is amazing.