Our Beloved Wren

My favorite time of year now commences as I rejoice in the return of my faithful feathered friend: the wren. My admiration began in 2007 or 2008, when the wren unexpectedly inhabited one of my unlikely birdhouses, due to its location. He would grace me with his presence every day as I gardened. He would flutter tree to tree singing to me, as if I were the sole recipient of his serenades. Just a simple whistle back to him would inspire a new song that filled my soul with delight. The wrens are known for being one of the least colorful birds, yet blessed by their most colorful and amazing voices.
One day, I recalled that it had been a few days since I had seen or heard him. I checked his house and in the opening hole was a dead, mangled bird. Oh, my heart ached and I was so disappointed for my bird friendship to come to a crashing halt. I buried the little guy in my flower bed, and I even phoned my dad - who had gifted me the birdhouse - to tell him of the grave news.
As I hung up the phone, my little wren perched himself on the trellis near where I was standing and began to sing, as if to say, “I’m right here.” I had to giggle, as I remembered reading that wrens often disguise houses to ward off other birds in their area. This particular wren certainly had a sense of humor, creating the true haunted house effect. What a creative and sly endeavor it was, indeed! As it turned out, my wren had a family in that birdhouse.
I began to buy mealy worms for my wren. I would place the dried treats at the opening of his house while he waited in one of our cedar trees. Then, my son, T.J., and I would go sit on his sandbox and watch him; and he would fly down and eat them, always thanking us with his song afterwards.
Unfortunately, the deer in our backyard trampled the birdhouse when I let my dog outside one night. In the morning, I discovered his house broken, yet no harmed eggs or birds. I looked for signs of him, but he never returned to his former dwelling that season. At the end of summer, he paid one final farewell, just like old times, and then we parted ways.
Every year since, my wren returns, and just when I think that he certainly must have found another home, he graces me with his presence. The funny thing is that it always seems to come at a time when I need just a little pick-me-up, and when something really good is about to happen.
In 2008, my friend Linda Carnahan and I looked up the symbolism or personality of the wren. Basically, the wren characterizes living in the moment, being thankful, and for his amazing ability to be resourceful. Whenever I hear his sweet little voice, it is my reminder to slow down and take time to appreciate my blessings around me, sing and dance a little, laugh, and be thankful! Life is too short for worrying about the things that we cannot control, or the daily worries that often consume us. We could all use a melody from the wren to be reminded of our blessings that we often take for granted - or just to slow down and “smell the roses”.
T.J. and Jiliang also share a fondness for nature and the outdoors, and they enjoy attracting and feeding birds, deer and squirrels. We live in a VERY small dwelling in the city, but we feel extremely blessed for our backyard surroundings, complete with a rambling creek and woods. Yesterday, we had another frog sighting in our yard - as my husband mowed - and we enjoyed returning him to the creek.
This summer, Scott and I are building a children’s garden for T.J. and Jiliang. The kids are planning to attract beneficial or “nice” bugs (crickets, fireflies, praying mantises and ladybugs), butterflies and birds. Nonetheless, it is the beginning of many childhood and adulthood memories to savor for a lifetime.
God Bless you all on this day!
Jill :)