Earlier this week I mentioned a nest of wrens hatched while I was on vacation. Since, I’ve spent many minutes on the patio, listening and watching.
For several years, I’ve hung the blue ceramic shelter in the same apple tree. Every summer I’ve been rewarded with new life.
I wonder if it is the same nesting pair from year to year?
How long does a wren live?
The petite fliers build with sticks, and the round entrance is so tightly packed, I’m amazed at how quickly mother and father are able to dart in and out while feeding.
Watching on this calm Saturday morning, I suspect the show is nearing an end. Mom and Dad Wren rarely enter the nest now, but instead alight on the house’s porch, delivering morsels to beaks poking out the door. Surely the brood will take flight soon.
I’ll miss them when they’re gone.
We’d come to an understanding…..Mom and Dad sounding their boisterous warning at my approach and then calming while I sat quietly. I think they came to realize I’m no threat.
Earning their trust, an act of grace.