Tag: Wrens

“The birds can’t stop singing”

Recently a friend in Ireland, who was having a rare sunny day, expressed her joy by exclaiming, “The birds can’t stop singing!” All the wonder of springtime seemed to be captured in that evocative phrase.

I thought about the empty bird bath in our back yard, which I hadn’t filled since last fall. Throughout the winter, a stray dove or wren would occasionally wander through the yard, but for the most part, they disappeared.

I feel guilty, Gentle Reader. I really do.

So, I filled the bird bath a couple of days ago, and the birds are back. Instead of singing at sunrise and sunset, as the wrens usually do, they’ve been singing all through the live-long day. And the doves can’t stop cooing.

They are very forgiving.

Anthem

At the last light, well after sunset, a throng of wrens in the surrounding trees suddenly burst into song. I only see two or three of them during the day, but when they join together in the evening serenade, there must be hundreds of them hidden in the trees. They finally settle down when the light has completely faded. Then again, at the first light of dawn, the anthem begins again and continues until the sun has risen.

In the short life of a bird, I suppose the going and coming of the light is indeed a momentous thing. I need to learn from this.

Night Singer

He’s up there somewhere….

A variety of birds grace our garden – wrens, doves, grackles, and a mystery night singer that may be a mockingbird. Like clockwork, the wrens greet every sunrise and sunset with a symphony of chirping. During the day, they swoop from tree to tree on very important business. The doves occasionally coo, and the grackles occasionally screech. From midnight to dawn, the mystery singer chirps, warbles, and trills in a variety of changing, complex patterns. I wish I understood the language of birds. They seem to have a lot to say.