A paper wasp's nest on our front porch serves two purposes. Last summer, when we learned that a nest might deter mud daubers from building in the same area, I remembered that we had one somewhere. A search in the shop located it, high on a shelf, under a coating of dust. Blowing it off, I found a beautiful nest, constructed from layers of fragile insect-made paper, designed with wavy lines of browns and grays. It was attached to a branch, which made it feasible to string it up and tie it to the porch. It kept the mud daubers at bay for months. When they started coming back, I moved it a few feet, and it worked again.
After the nest had been in place for a few weeks, I noticed a hole near the top. Over the next few days, the hole grew until it was perfectly round and about the size of a small bird.
I was at the kitchen sink, looking out the window when I discovered the second purpose for the wasp's nest. A Carolina Wren flew to the nest and ducked inside the newly carved entrance hole. When he reappeared moments later and perched in the doorway, he seemed quite pleased with himself. After he flew away, I got a ladder and flashlight and peered inside. There I found a nest within a nest, built to Carolina Wren specifications with a tunnel just inside the front opening.
All winter, a pair of Carolina Wrens frequented our front porch, eating the dried mealworms we put out for them. In harsh winters, supplemental food can make a difference in their survival. Our motives, however, are not entirely altruistic. We just like to watch them.
We love it, too, that they are not afraid to build their nest near people's dwellings where we can observe them up close. But what fascinates us most is the male's melodious voice, like a young American Idol star. Whatever the reason, they always make us smile. And that's worth a lot.
A couple of months ago, the male wren brought his mate over to show off his construction. A male wren will build nests at more than one location, and the conventional wisdom is that he takes the female on a tour of his homes and lets her choose which one she likes. I thought he'd been using all his persuasive powers in favor of the wasp's nest. "Look at all these worms," he said, and "where else could you find this kind of craftsmanship?" Maybe he wasn't as persuasive as I thought he was, because they ended up raising 5 little ones in the old fish basket on the front porch, where they've nested the past several years. Now they're using the paper wasp's nest as a second home. Considering how fast the fledglings are growing, it's a good thing they have it. It's tattered by now, and it isn't going to fool the mud daubers much longer, but the birds still like it. The little ones pop in and out of their summer home like the privileged creatures they are.
