When spring cleaning my smokehouse earlier this year, there were a few things I wasn’t sure what to do with, so I hung them on the side of the shed. One of the items was a birdhouse, and within a few hours, it was being investigated top to bottom by interested wrens.
The next day, we noticed the wrens attempting to move in, but it seemed that every stick they brought was too big for the hole. In trying to get through, they would drop the stick, and then fly down to the ground to pick it back up. Since I’m the one that hung the birdhouse so close to the porch I felt a little guilty, because the cats soon caught on and sat waiting under the birdhouse.
I thought a little human intervention was called for, so I stuck a small amount of grass clippings into the bottom dwelling, followed by a layer of fur donated by my German Shepherd after a good grooming.
It apparently suited the wrens perfectly. They moved right in and are now tirelessly bringing food to I-don’t-know-how-many youngsters in there. The little ones grow louder every day, so it will soon be time to lock the cats in the house. I don’t want any mishaps during their first flying lesson.
Next year I plan to move the box to a safer location, but it’s been fun watching this family grow.
Good for you Jess taking care of the birds and helping out nature! You are a gal after my heart! 🙂
How is the market for historical fiction?
Thanks, Carol!
Wes, I think the market is pretty good – at least the market for Civil War fiction is.