Persistence

This year we hung three new birdhouses (or old ones which hadn’t been up for awhile) to see what type of birds they might attract. Hauling out our trusty folding ladder, my husband, a very tall man (or tall to a woman of my stature), took time and careful effort to ensure that each house was fastened to a tree in such a way that it was both secure and the tree wasn’t harmed. Being a mechanical engineer helps him to come up with creative solutions to do things like that. We then sat back and waited to see what the springtime activites would bring.


To our delight, a tiny pair of brown wrens decided that one of the houses would fit their needs just perfectly. Warbling on and off as they worked (and these little tiny brown birds are very loud), we watched entranced as the pair brought in carefully selected stalks of grass with which to line their new home, hanging covertly in the branch that draped a bit in front of the bird house opening before hastily flying in to deposit their treasure. Egg laying couldn’t be far off, we were sure, with peeping chicks to follow, and we all looked forward to watching our diminutive neighbors raise their new family.

Then disaster struck. I looked from my kitchen window one morning to find the wren house all askew and no sign of our little brown friends anywhere. Of late, raccoons had been attempting to raid our bird feeders at night, and, since this is when the damage occurred, we can only assume that these furry striped bandits were responsible. To see that the eggs were gone and that the once tidy nest was churned into an unrecognizable mish-mash was very sad, but the one question we couldn’t answer was what had become of the adult birds? Did they survive? Since we didn’t hear any singing, we could only assume that the worse had happened. That day, though sunny, was spoiled by an aura of gloom.

The next morning, however, I woke up early to hear a wren singing outside my bedroom window. I recalled in my still half-asleep state that a house meant for bluebirds hung on this side of our lot. We’d been watching it along with the others, and knew it was empty, since the finicky critters it was meant to aid passed it over for more familiar boxes in a neighboring field. Pulling on my robe, I went down to the ground floor, and peered out into the early morning light. And, sure enough – I could plainly see a pair of wrens busily carrying in stalks of grass to line the interior of their new-found home. As late in the season as it is, I am fully convinced that these are the birds from the destroyed bird house. It is nice to think that egg laying and peeping chicks are once again on the agenda.

The lesson here is obvious – if you want something bad enough, don’t let anything or any setback stand in your way. Persistence pays off in the end, I am sure of it. And if you don’t believe me, well, just go ask the wrens.

For more information on House Wrens, Click HERE.