Our friendly little wrens

 Troglodytes troglodytes. The wren is so-called because of its reclusiveness and solitary life, living in woods, frequenting low lying areas where it feeds on spiders and small insects. I often read that it's one of our most common birds, but how on earth its numbers can be determined I've no idea given its life-style. Perhaps becuse it has large broods? But elsewhere in nature it seems the more potential offspring is produced, the less likely any one of them will grow and survive into adulthood. Think fungi spores, sycamore and oak seeds. If the chances of all of those growing were good, then we'd be up to our necks in Giant Puffballs and trees. Maybe this 'rule' doesn't hold the same for mammals.

When we first moved here a wren was a frequent visitor to the garage, kitchen and even upstairs, freeliy fluttering around at will. Other birds we've discovered indoors were accidental visitors but the wren in contrast seemed to treat inside our buildings no different to foraging under a tree: it seldom panicked when encountered and simply moved on to another room or upstairs even. It also instinctively knew that window glass is hard and never once tried to fly though it. Other reluctant visitors risked self-harm in frantic attempts to get to the safety of the outside.

We found 2 wren nests: one under the canopy in the back yard (see pic below) and another tucked in the eaves of the bottom garage. Apparently the male wren has to be an adept and tireless nest builder as it will make several of these to atract a mate. She will select the best house builder.

Wren's nest under canopy in back yard

We didn't find any active nests but knew there was a family of wrens in the woods because when we sat in the late afternoon/early evening sun in the corner of the woods alongside the hedgerow we watched the parents calling, locating and feeding the offspring as they explored their territory. Being small, only glimpses are caught but like with many nature watching activities the watcher is repaid by being still, quiet and in tune with surroundings.

Since the start of the summer we have daily sat in our sun trapped corner of the woods watching the sun slowly drop towards the rim of the other side of the valley. The wrens didn't seem to mind us and carried on with their low level activities, moving from the hedgerow to the stone wall behind us and even under our tarp, incessently seeking food with long sharply pointed beaks. 

The wren has a remarkable voice. Its call can be heard above most other songbirds and is a beautiful sound. Its warning and other calls are more stoccato. https://www.rspb.org.uk/birds-and-wildlife/wildlife-guides/bird-a-z/wren/

We've noticed the younger wrens around the garden and house much more in latter weeks. They search for their food down amongst the flower pots by the garage wall, in the crevices of the walls, under the eaves and all the other places they find their main food of spiders. They continue to go about their foraging without being too bothered by us. I can often be heard saying, 'hello little wren, what are you doing there?' as I encounter one whilst going about my own tasks.

The young ones are still learning about their natural and human made environment and have a long winter to get through. So this is an important learning time if they are to survive. 

Yesterday evening, just as the light was fading, I heard a sound from the kitchen and when I went to investigate I heard the familiar whirring of tiny wings and caught a glimpse of the brown-bodied wren. 'Hello, what are you doing in here?' I found myself involuntarilly saying. It flew into the utlity room where all the doors and windows were now shut for the night. It hid on the window ledge behind some pot plants and being one of the fledgelings, hadn't yet learned that it needs to find other ways of getting outside.

I closed the internal doors and opened the external doors (the windows have locks and we haven't yet found the keys) to the yard and  the drive, turned the inside lights off and outside lights on to give the bird something to fly towards and left it to its own devices. I gave it an hour before returning and it apeared to have gone.

Those types of encounter leave you wondering and a little bit apprehensive about the fate of the creature and I went to bed hoping the little thing was a quick learner and despite the darkness found a safe place to spend the rest of the night.

I'm up early most days and with the bird still on my mind, went firstly to the utility room to check whether or not it had found an escape route the evening before. Window sill clear, behind the fridge clear and then seemingly from nowhere it flew to the window nearest the stable door mercifully without banging itself on the glass. 'You still here then?', I said, opening the doors. When I returned a few minutes later it was gone.

We also have a resident robin who I also greet with a friendly, 'hello little robin'. This bird is well-known for being the gardener's friend and when either or both are knelt planting, weeding  or upright tilling and digging, we know our little friend will soon come by for the worms and grubs we inevitably uncover. There may of course be more than one but the robin is fiercely territorial and won't tolerate competition. During the hard winter months most birds seem to forsake the defence of territory as it is energy sapping. Better to conserve during these lean times. The blackbird may be the exception. If it is first to a food source it will chase away other birds but often in doing so will lose the food anyway as the sneaky ones take advantage of the poor blackbird's inattention to the food and focus on seeing others off.

Living here there is a lovely bluring of the lines between the wild and natural and the cultivated and doemestic As well as the wren that forages in our house and garage as naturally as in the hedgerow, orchids, found in abundance in the woods also appear in the garden. From the trees at the margin of the woods overhanging the garden, oak and especially hazel seedlings appear like weeds in the garden. Bats roost in the bottom garage and the other day when turning  the contents of the compost bin, an uncovered slow worm raised itself up in indignation at being disturbed before slithering back down into the moist warmth of decomposition. A daily, nay hourly, ritual is netting butterflies and bumble bees in the conservatory to return them to the outside. At the time of writing the Gatekeepers have me prancing around with the bamboo stick and yellow mesh of the child's seaside fishing net. Not long ago it was Orange Tips.

I'm hoping the little Trglodytes will visit again. We'll welcome it into our home and gladly give up our plentiful supply of house spider. There's plenty to forage for in the garage as well if it cares to help out there too.