“Quick come here, wear shoes,” my husband calls to me as he sticks his head into the house. Quickly I leave my desk and grab my shoes as I hustle into the garage. He leads me around the side of the house. I now know this must have something to do with the infant wrens that have been living in the spruce. Unfortunately, he didn’t say bring your camera. My phone is sitting on my desk. So if this is a fleeting moment, I will only be able to describe it with words. Mentally I am fussing at myself for not grabbing some device. (FYI, it is now Thursday)
However, it is not a fleeting moment. I have time to get back into the house for the camera. In fact I have about twenty hours to record this sight. There on one slim branch of the spruce is one of the babies.
I stay back and employ the zoom feature of the camera. I do not want to be responsible for startling this young wren and making it lose its grip on the branch. Its back is to me, as I try to angle and get a close shot of this petrified baby bird. Or is it a teenager now?
Overhead mama is having a fit. She flits from one roof to the next with nonstop squawking . Let’s just imagine we can translate, I’m thinking she is saying: “Don’t let go! Lady, get away from my baby! What do you think you are doing? This is a training session you are interrupting! Go back into your house! Leave us alone! Close your eyes baby! Don’t look down! Step away from the tree, no, not you baby! If I was braver, I’d peck your head and push you away! Why, why, why?” There were probably additional words which I won’t print here too.
After I took a few photos, I returned to the house so mama could calm down and continue with her lesson. Several more times during the afternoon and in the evening, I went out to check on the baby. It was still hanging on to that same branch but it had turned around. Unfortunately it rained a bit in the afternoon. So in the morning, it looked quite plump. However, after rain soaked the feathers, it looked considerably smaller and more pathetic. It continues to keep its eyes closed. The theory must be, if I can’t see you, you can’t see me.
In the morning I went out to get the paper, but I took a quick peek down the side of the house. Believe it or not, it was still clinging to the branch. Poor little wren! What a miserable night it must have had! Later I checked on it and this time it was no where to be found. All that was left was a very poop covered branch. (I’ll let you imagine this one.)
In the beginning, there were five eggs, but I think only three hatched. I don’t know when the others flew the nest, but no one is home now. Sigh! How quickly they grow up and leave the nest!