The river never plans to fall the cliff just ends its way. What follows fills the valley floor with thunder, mist, and spray.

I’m built with care, but not by hand, I’m woven where the branches stand. A cozy home, both warm and small, A shelter where the young ones call. Twigs and feathers make my wall, I keep my little guests from fall. I’m not a house, yet home I’m called, Where eggs lie safe and dreams unfold. I cradle life, but never roam, Among the leaves, I make my home. What am I, hidden in a tree, A little cradle for all to see?

Probably the most famous of this type of bird is named for it's lack of feathers on it's head... Wait, that's not what that means?

Made to hold those that soar through the sky. It lets them fly a little, yet keeps them visible for guests to view.

I wander the world without a single shoe Yet every path I travel feels fresh and new I wear many faces but keep no disguise I sleep in the clouds and fall from the skies I carve through the mountains with patience alone Turning the hardest of giants to stone I mirror the moon and awaken the sun I gather in rivers that endlessly run The forests rejoice when they hear my song Without my embrace they cannot grow strong I can whisper so softly or thunder with might I sparkle by day and I shimmer by night You cannot truly keep me no matter your art Yet I have been living inside every heart Tell me traveler before I depart What am I