The Nest

Last summer a house wren nested on our front porch in one of the empty planters on top of the potting table. It wasn't a terribly organized nest, but it was in a corner, high off of the ground, and so was pretty safe. I spent a fun morning watching the fledglings flinging themselves about the porch, trying to figure out how to fly. It only took a couple of hours, then all but one was gone.

I found that single fledgling nearly drowned in the birdbath, poor thing. I plucked it out and set it--soaked and shivering--in the empty nest. After it rested for a few hours it, too, took off.

This year a house wren has nested in a basket of white impatiens hanging from the porch's eave. It took her almost two weeks to build the nest. For a long time I thought she was just sleeping in the foliage at night, but then a couple of the plants died off, replaced by a cavity nest full of tiny eggs.

Best that I can tell, there are three babies. When I approached the nest today to see how they were doing, the one right at the opening reflexively opened its mouth to be fed. I can imagine it was disappointed when I returned with a camera instead of regurgitated worms.

I love how the cavity nest surrounds the birds, protecting them from the weather and any predators that might be in the neighborhood. They're growing so quickly that they're already close to filling up the space. It won't be long before the babies and their mother are gone, leaving me to wonder where I'll discover a nest next summer.