House wrens pay a visit

Posted on June 29, 2017 by Fred Allebach

To our surprise, a pair of very small house wrens made a nest in our kitchen window planter box, under a potted spider plant, not a foot from our kitchen sink. The planter box is in a shady spot, and a fairy garden evolved out of it, with various small charms, statuettes and figurines. The space had some magic, enough to call the wrens in.

Back and forth, back and forth they came to build the nest, darting under the spider plant with nesting materials. They were wary but unperturbed by the proximity of kitchen activity, banging dishes, and lights on at night. KDB, she told them not to worry.

The birds must be named house wrens for a reason; they’ve cast their lot with people. In Yellowstone, elk routinely rest right by the road as they know the wolves won’t come near all the people and cars. People create ecological space certain animals recognize and can live in.

The female quietly laid her eggs and incubated them. The male worked assiduously to bring spiders and bugs. These birds can catch some bugs! Our yard, on Lot # 513, is a good three acres bordering Arroyo Seco, with fields, big trees and lots of cover and habitat; a small patch of nature with an old Sonoma feel. Take a line straight east off the bottom of the Plaza to Arroyo Seco, and that is the northeastern tip of Lot 513.

At some point the chicks hatched, but not a peep of chirping. There were cats nearby. Cats kill a lot of birds. I learned the wren’s calls, especially the warning call, and when I heard that I’d go outside and run the neighbor’s cats off. The birds slowly became my birds, our birds, and we delighted in watching them right outside the window.

The parents worked constantly bringing bugs. They got many spiders, some surprisingly large ones at that. In and out, back and forth, all day long, feeding the chicks, a timeless calling and imperative that all parents know.

The wrens had maybe four or five calls. One evening came a song as yet unsung. It was a notable song, beautiful, compelling, melodic. And the next day, the fledged chicks had come out of the nest and they were gone. The parents had sung them out of the nest. I was shocked. My birds! I went outside, and made one last sighting as the family made their move. The whole nesting process took about two and a half weeks. A delightful experience, one worthy of KDB’s fairy garden.

Then a few days later I heard them out back, in the cover of some thick bushes. I was glad to see and hear them; my heart and being had opened to them. Gradually they have blended back into this little parch of nature, still around with a call here and there. Now they reside with the rest of our pantheon of animals: lizards and skinks, frogs, salamanders, bugs, wild honey bees in the eaves, seasonal robins, towhees, buzzards, hawks, fox, raccoon, skunk, rat, opossum, deer, and mountain lion.

The Arroyo Seco corridor brings them all in, and just like us, Lot #513 looked like a good place to stay and nest for a while. I remain transfixed by the leave-the-nest song, a beautiful affirmation of life. One more sign, in a lifetime of reminders of how special it is to be alive.