There are many kinds of nests on a farm. Chickens nest, usually in the chicken coop in boxes filled with hay. Birds build nests up in the trees in the spring, filling the air with sweet birdsong.
But there are also rattlesnakes, which we’d see occasionally on the farm, but never did see a nest of them. Usually Papaw would come with a hoe and chop the head off, if Daddy wasn’t around to take care of it.
One thing we had plenty of on the farm was army ant nests. These are mounds of fine soil with a hole on the top about the size of a nickel. They were everywhere. You never knew when you’d run across one. I think the ants constantly weaving in and out of there broke the dirt down into the sandy texture. The dirt on the farm was usually black and hard unless it rained. Once the land got dry again, big cracks formed on the surface layer.
If one of these ants bit you, it really hurt and left a small red welt. If you accidently stepped onto a mound, they were on your legs by the hundreds. Daddy would pour gasoline or kerosene down the hole in the top and set the hills on fire to get rid of the ants. This was an on-going battle and part of farm life.