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Full Version: Here is a short story about my favorite Wren.
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I live in Las Vegas, Nevada, and if you have ever looked at the Weather Channel and checked out our summers, you would know that it gets pretty hot out here. Well, I was walking in a park in the afternoon and it was around 100 degrees. I then noticed a baby wren on the sidewalk frying in the heat. I was horrified. I know that you are supposed to leave the birds alone, but I did not see his mother. I couldn't leave and so I just walked a few feet away and waited for the mother to return. After fifteen minutes, I couldn't bear watching him in agony. I swooped him into my shirt and carried him home. I taught "Wren" how to fly. I would put him on my arm and coaxed him to jump off. He loved hopping and following me around my house.
Wrens are wonderful little birds, and I love listening to them. They have a way of repeating the same "word" sound over and over 4-5 times in a row. Then they stop, wait a minute and start it over again. After they have repeated the same word for several of the repeat sessions; they usually change words, and then start repeating that word.
They seem to be friendly little birds as well. We lived in a trailer house out in the country, and in the summer, when we had the door and windows open, the wrens would take a shortcut in through the bathroom window, across the hall, and then out the back door on the other side of the trailer.
Sometimes they actually flew into the living room, and landed on the curtains, and then they would peer around the house for a bit, and then fly back out again.