A taste of feather

Nest of swirling pieces gathered up,
looking like a bowl or thick wooden cup,
little bird turns and moves quickly around,
making a light high pitched sprinkling sound,
tilting head and fluttering around eggs kept still,
another twig added for strength so they won't spill,
flying around to gather more for the larger growing nest,
as earlier before the eggs she met a male with a bright chest,
searching for food of worms and bugs her only meal,
such a large nest in the small tree hard to conceal,
returning when darkness and cold are near,
snakes and other birds being her only fear,
as the days pass and they will hatch,
hearing inside the beginning scratch,
breaking through to the air,
now she has to prepare.