A chattering noise drew my attention to the front porch the other day.
A Carolina Wren peered out from between the logs of the wood pile.
It flitted around the stack of wood looking for some juicy morel to eat, then paused to preen.
Carolina wrens have made themselves at home on our front porch over the years, often raising their young in an old basket that hangs there. Three years ago, when I hung a sunflower seed head from the porch eves to feed the birds, the titmice cleaned out every seed, but two wrens made their winter shelter in the small cavity in the underside of the seed head.
They came the following winter, and last week, when the weather turned cold, they were back again, flying in at dusk to tuck into their winter home.
It's nice to think of providing shelter for these pert little beauties,
but if we think about property rights,
their forebears were probably here long before we were.
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