The Nest

The Nest

Alexandr Piatkov



Atop the utility pole TP 234-L9—as marked on its concrete base—right where the

steel hook of a white porcelain insulator pierces the creosote-mummified wooden

flesh, and where resourceful linemen had tied off a coiled remnant of thick wire,

a pair of wild rock doves found the perfect spot and began to build a nest.


Perched high above, the female dove received the twigs brought by her mate,

weaving them into an orthogonally precise grid. Quality, it seemed, demanded

sacrifice: a significant portion of the material kept falling to the foot of the

pole, much to the bewilderment of the shopkeeper from the nearby kiosk. She would

sweep the debris away, only for it to reappear immediately. The construction had

been underway for a week, and the kiosk lady began to suspect some ill-wishers of

plotting against her—even though, out of everyone involved in this construction,

she was theoretically the only one endowed with reason.


In truth, interaction requires reason, even for doves. The instinctive actions of

a single individual, somehow fixed and inherited, are one thing; but joint

construction work represents an entirely different level of organization and

coordination. The inheritance of such traits raises many questions.


If the actions of a single individual can still be envisioned as the execution of

a program written in a genetic code that emerged from the primordial soup, the

programming of a joint activity between two distinct individuals seemingly cannot

arise in such a manner. This program must be inscribed on both sides—the co-

executors of the project. Furthermore, the project itself must be documented

somewhere. The nest, of course, does not bear a strict project number like the

utility pole, yet the doves' will in choosing the location and the structure of

the nest is clearly present, as is the division of labor between the performers.


Noah was commissioned to build the Ark, and a commission of its own kind was

written into the genetic code of the dove and his mate. However, the primordial

soup could not have formulated it for joint execution by two separate

individuals. A door creaking in the wind might scrape out a passing melody, but

only a composer is capable of writing an orchestration for that melody to be

performed by multiple instruments.


Either there was a Creator who programmed the joint activity of doves into their

genetic code, or each of the doves must possess a mind no lesser than that of the

kiosk lady.



Published by Alexandr Piatkov, 2026
Translated by AI Translator, 2026
Based on Original Source Text: proza.ru/avtor/alexanderan