While I was cleaning out and working yesterday- not a good combination of efforts!- I came across this old storybook of birds at the back of the shelf. I was wondering what to do with it when I stumbled upon this.
The day I started this blog, I chose quickly from a scribbled list I made of possible names. Honestly, I didn't give it all enough thought and might have chosen differently if I had allowed myself more than 10 minutes. But the neighborhood wren was outside the studio window, her little bird house swaying with her movements, catching the sunlight and shadow. House Wren Studio seemed a good fit. And I often feel like a little house wren in here, only I can't sing.
Reading on, it looks like I got the rest of it right too. Clearly, I'm all about the tiny crooked sticks. Time to ask Father Wren to show me some more of those nests he's reported to have all over town.
Just the big, roomy ones, please.......... yeah, how about one with an extra tin can or cute clothespin bag out back. Pretty much done with brown-speckled eggs, but really, what's an old Mother Wren to do?
Nature fact: it's always going to be about the sticks. xoC