It’s May, a month bursting with life here in Vermont. The cold has been driven away, replaced with ever evolving signs of life — the newly emerging green shoots of trillium, the sweetness of scented lilacs, and birdsong — a cacophony of different sounds greets each morning.

May is also the month I was born, so of course I was named Robyn.

Each spring, the robins begin to nest, gathering bits of straw and twigs to make their homes. As I pass by their hidden nests in early May, the mother robins scold and chase me away from their precious turquoise blue eggs. Later in May, she is seen carrying food to those open eager upraised and squawking beaks. She teaches them to fly away, and the cycle continues.

The nest has always been a symbol of safety and home to me, the the things that comprise home…love, family and community, are the eggs that need guarding. Through my love of found vintage items, I have collected things that I hope you will make part of your home, your nest. If these treasures could speak of their history, what stories they could tell. I hope you will write a new chapter in their story….