Notes about the Nest

Friday, June 6

Our beloved little toothpaste-green home is graced by the presence of many birds: Carolina chickadees, mockingbirds who delight with their song and infuriate when they steal tomatoes, grackles great and small, rock doves, titmice, cardinals, hummingbirds, and wrens. Some weeks ago we noticed a lot of wren activity around the back porch, which led to the discovery of a nest made in a black plastic gallon flower pot tucked on a metal shelf by the workbench. All manner of bits and stuffs were ferried via wren beak to this location, and soon, sure enough: tiny flecked eggs, out of which poked loud and hungry little wrenlets. Again with the ferrying, this time of whatever pleases a wren's young's stomach: bugs and whatnots. They had supper at the same time as us, we could watch the wren make her speedy deliveries, and hear the clamoring choir of chicks whenever she perched on the edge of the pot: memememememe!

Awestruck, dumbfounded, I even watched the small wrens, fluffy and inadequate, try out their wings, fly awkwardly, land unsuccessfully, and leave the nest forever, all in the matter of an hour or so. I miss their tiny, miraculous presence on the back porch, but do not begrudge them choosing the nearby oaks' branches to a plastic flower pot, no matter how cozy. I wish them good luck.

And so, this blog: made and fed with bits, stuffs, whatnots pulled from all corners of my interests and amazements, be they yoga, knitting, homesteading, loving, singing, lounging, and living without A/C in Central Texas. Wish me luck, too.