Bird Operetta

This Carolina wren has built a nest in the tongue of the boat trailer. We are hoping her young fledge before our first hurricane warning! We have at least three wren nests in the front yard.

There is nothing quite so amazing as the full-throated song that comes from the little brown Carolina wren during the heat of the day. His/her call is so robust and yet so sweetly lovely that it makes one wonder where the amplifier is hidden in that small bird and who does the wonderful composing for such arias? What dreams does this bird dream that give them such a beautiful vision and such robust hope for the day?

They are the true operatic sopranos of the bird world. You hear his/her call and have to stop mid-pull in your weeding, or mid-inhale in your enjoyment of that pink rose, or just stop daydreaming and find that you are compelled to train your eyes toward the sound to see the amazing feathered music machine that is perched head back and beak open on that high branch of the poplar tree singing away to the sky.

When your eyes narrow and focus on the far limb you see that it is just a tiny brown bird with the cutest little uptail. Watching them sing, poke under the leaves of the geranium plant, seek out housing or build their nest is quite a show of energy and optimism. The world is their oyster and nothing can stop them. They are quick and perky and one might think their song would be simple and short. Every year they try to nest in the hanging canoe in the garage even though our work habits startle them on a regular basis. They are determined.

Two of these wren families have taken up raising a family in the unpainted house and the green birdhouse. My comment to the bluebirds is "You snooze, you lose."