Rae Spencer

The house wren spent weeks perfecting his nest. He added twigs until no more twigs would fit, then filled the spaces between twigs with bits of spider web and grass clippings. As he worked, he sang.

Several female wrens visited during those weeks. They hopped around the yard, inspecting all of the nest boxes and gourds, scolding the male when he got too close. The male wren reacted to these visits with a barrage of high-pitched calls, fluttering from perch to perch as he tried to lead the females to “his” nest.

Finally, one of the females decided to stay. She finished the nest over a period of three or four days, spending longer and longer inside the nest box each day.

Then I woke one morning to a furious battle. A new wren had arrived, and all three birds were fighting. By mid-morning, the new wren had driven the nesting pair away and destroyed their eggs.

The new wren visited each of the gourds and nest boxes that day, adding twigs to all of them. More than once I saw him remove twigs from the old nest and carry them to one of his new nests. He seemed particularly fond of the gourds, which the other wren had largely ignored.

I suspect the first wren was a very young male. He put all of his efforts into one nest, while most sources indicate that male wrens typically build several nests at once. He also seemed thoroughly over-excited whenever a female appeared in the yard, smothering them with enthusiasm.

By comparison, the new wren is calm and sedate. His sings less, and his song is softer. He follows females, when they appear, but does not flutter and scold as they investigate his nests. This afternoon one of the females began adding material to the old nest, and he let her work in peace. He watched, singing occasionally, but stayed out of her way.

I’m fascinated by the new wren’s behavior, which seems like a paradox to me. He arrived in a whirl of aggression, complete with egg destruction, but his activity since has been passive. What triggered his initial invasion? And will he be able to hold the nest he won?

As the Blue Jay fledglings grow more and more independent, the House Wren spends a lot of time scolding them.

He doesn’t seem to mind robins and doves, but recently a Tufted Titmouse roused him to near-panic. His frantic scolds and fluttering feints at the Tufted Titmouse prompted me into research mode regarding the relationships between House Wrens and other birds, which led me to this interesting article posted on the Audubon Society of Omaha’s website:  “The Great Wren Debate Revisited”. I had found references, before, to the House Wren’s aggressive tendency to destroy the nests of other birds (see here and here), but “The Great Wren Debate Revisited” presents a dire profile of the charismatic little bird that now spends his days singing in one corner of our yard.

Will he really destroy the other nests in our yard? Pierce the eggs and kill the nestlings?

Is our wren nest an endearing, heartwarming story in the making, or another manifestation of the strange, cruel realities of life?

Perhaps it is both. In the encyclopedia of nature, even in the small entry that makes up our yard, heartwarming and strange are often synonymous. Endearing and cruel overlap in disturbing, necessary ways. The only certainty is that I am not wise enough to judge whether the House Wren is good or bad, nor even to know if such judgments are possible.