One might perceive that a man would become, explore, plan, and build his home. A mate by his side with intent to always be there for her, gathering wood or this and that. There are examples of this. Look at the birds. In some way, they select a mate and each other. They may frolic at first and explore the world, sharing food and vistas, feeling the rain and the wind. They relish in the sun, lighting all for them to see.
And then in some logical way, the project begins. Twig by twig, lifted to the sky and placed in a tree. One by two by three, the nest is made until it is fluffy and warm. Sun and wind ensue, and through some act of fate, nature arrives, and children in need depend on their parents to feed.
Days continue on, each parent doing their part to maintain the home, the place their children know to be their own, just there … as it is, for the reason unknown. And life moves forward and away and the children explore and plan … and you know.
Nature has a way and while a man may have intent to plan, there is a randomness that arrives. There is a force, beyond which mind nor thought can solve, a plushness of life that consumes, beyond reason and sometimes with a simple step and choice creates the path that will become his home.