Empty Nest...

 

 

Empty Nest Syndrome is real…

Many generations of House Wrens have lived with us. Their nests the unmolested memories peeking out from hiding places throughout our great room.

Twigs stick from the windows of a red caboose, a toy wooden train that motors across the doorway between the great room and kitchen, a perfect ride. One nest sits comfortably in the lap of a stuffed brown monkey looking down from a high shelf.

The latest occupants moved into a bookshelf, just behind a copy of a book about The Boston Massacre.

When I opened the doors to the backyard each morning, the mom flew out, dad flew in, with a bug. They shared feeding duties. If I failed to open up first thing, they scolded me harshly, flying through the house, letting me know of their displeasure.

They had been particularly active in the last week, zooming in and out every few minutes. Like most teenagers, their big kids seemed to be hungry all the time.

I stayed alert, not wanting the dogs to get to any chicks when it was time for them to leave the nest.

That’s what happened yesterday afternoon. I heard Chicca making noises in the great room. She had one bird cornered behind a large chest my Grandfather had made. Grabbing him gently, I put him outside atop a thick growth of Jasmine on the fence. Mom & Pop Wren supervised. Over the next hour, three more young Wrens managed to get themselves stuck somewhere inside. I helped each one make a gentle exit.

By dusk, there was no more activity. All birds had shown that they could fly. Like any new drivers, they just needed a help at first.

Sitting on the couch a bit later, a sound in the corner over by the outside doors got me wondering if we had missed one last chick. Could there have been five?

Upon investigation, we found a little garter snake, hanging out under the window where the birds had first flown, probably entertaining fantasies of a live Turkey dinner.

No such luck for him. I put him outside too.

This morning it seems awfully quiet in here. It’s starting to get hot so it’s good to be able to close the outside doors and be able to turn on the AC as needed, but yes, it’s a little too quiet and we already look forward to hosting a new crop of aviary entertainers next Spring.