& Then There Were 3

The hawk has been circling low over our deck, keenly attentive to the cries of the baby wrens. A Cooper's Hawk, known for feasting on songbirds, has also appeared. We provide what protection we can by keeping the umbrellas up & keeping someone outside.


The babies are beginning to look like wrens now. They are large enough to shake the entire basket of flowers. One in particular has grown to exploring outside of the nest. We kept vigil, knowing "he" would fall out. When he did, he scurried across the rose garden. He flew across the pool from atop a towering wall. Momma & daddy wren are good parents & surrounded him in his meager cries. So strong in the nest, he seemed so tiny & frail in the forest. His cries sounded so vulnerable & helpless, yet he was able to fly into treetops. The sky grew suddenly dark, as a summer storm blew up. As I watched the storm from the carport, I could hear his momma continue to call to him, even in the downpour. We listened out for him throughout the rest of the day, hearing that she had guided him to the denser part of the forest. The 3 remaining babies were curious & confused, though noticeably more comfortable in their tiny space.


Yesterday, my husband asked me what the momma was saying. I replied, "I like to think that tiny bird, with the largest of songs, is singing out praises to our God & King". He listened for a minute & agreed.


This morning I arose to the mommas' glorious song. Venturing out, I hoped to count 4 babies, safely "home".... But they are all gone... only 13 days new. A jumble of feelings courses through me. I am proud of, & frightened for them. In my very being, I have a deep sense of foreshadowing, as my own young one grows so quickly.....


I have grown accustomed to momma wren singing, while their daddy chides & scolds. This morning, they both sing proudly back & forth across the forest area that is filled with 4 tiny voices.