Wren Changes

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.

Wren June 19

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.

Egg July 20

Egg July 20

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.

Wren July 30

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?

Wren July 30

The House Wren

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

Wren June 19

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.

Wren June 19

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

Wren June 22

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

Wren June 22

Wren June 19

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.

A New Nest

Nest Building June 16

We’ve given up on the old nest box, which produced year after year of failure. After removing it, we decided to add a variety of nest boxes to the yard and see what works best for the birds. This little wren is testing one of the new boxes.

Nest Building June 16

I believe this is a house wren. Please comment if you can correct or confirm my identification!

Nest Building June 16

He started the nest Sunday evening, worked through the day on Monday, and has spent most of this morning singing.

Nest Building June 17

The nest looks wonderful, to me, and I hope he finds a mate who agrees.

Nest Building June 17

Video clips from Sunday evening and Monday:

More from Back Bay

Flock Feb 6

During my Wednesday walk at Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge, I heard this flock of birds before I saw them. Their whistles and scolds carried over the water, and I wondered what was causing all the excitement.

Flock Feb 6

Flock Feb 6

At first, they seemed chaotic and confused, a disorganized muddle of hunger and alarm. After watching a while, their behavior made more sense. They would land for a frantic spell of foraging, gulping down seeds and anything else they found in the trees and on the ground. Then, at some mysterious signal, they would erupt into the air and circle to a new location.

Flock Feb 6

When they reached a small gravel road, they streamed back and forth across it, oscillating between dense stands of pine on either side.

Flock Feb 6

Flock Feb 6

Flock Feb 6

The most riveting part of this experience, to me, was the soundtrack. Whenever the birds landed, they communicated with a grating cacophony of calls. But they were almost silent in the air. As they shifted back and forth over the road, their wings whirred an eerie echo of the nearby surf.

I heard them in my sleep last night, and I dreamed of flying.

Indigo’s Christmas Toys

Several years ago we purchased a set of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer toys. We bought them on a whim, because we both have fond childhood memories of watching the animated Christmas special. We didn’t know that our dog, Indigo, would claim the toys for her own. They became her favorite part of Christmas, and ours. She knew what box they were stored in, in the attic, and visited them as often as allowed during the intervals between holidays. Each November, she danced underfoot as we brought the box downstairs and unpacked “her” toys. Then she climbed onto the couch and stared at them for hours on end. Her first task every morning was to check on the toys, and she begged for us to make them sing over and over during the day.

Last year, my mother died in October. Selfish in my grief, I skipped Christmas altogether. I didn’t decorate or buy gifts. I didn’t send cards or listen to carols, and I complained about the month-long marathon of televised nostalgia.

During the year of my cancelled Christmas, Indigo aged dramatically. Her hearing loss advanced to complete deafness, and an insidious onset of distraction and anxiety altered her personality. So I shouldn’t have been surprised, today, by her muted reaction to the Rudolph toys. She danced a slow, stiff dance as I placed them on the mantel, wagged her tail as I activated them each in turn, and then wandered away in search of a warm place to nap. She has not returned to the toys, and I have not tried to remind her of them.

It seems that this part of Christmas must move into the past and take its place among all of my other holiday memories. I’m sad to lose such a simple source of joy, but I’m happy to say it’s not completely gone. Two years ago, we spent an afternoon filming Indigo with her toys, and I have this video to treasure and share…