Early Morning Wren Reverie

A squat little Carolina wren hops about on the platform feeder outside my window. She doesn't seem to mind the steady rain, or me on the other side of the window watching. A moment ago she was sitting on the fence just singing her heart out in defiance of the dreary weather. I love these bold little birds. Not only do they have the propensity to be cheerful on the most drab of days, but look at that stern little expression! How could you not love that face?

She reminds me of a substitute teacher I had in 5th grade. A bit rotund and grumpy on the outside, but good-natured underneath. I'd love the opportunity to hold one of these little birds. Oh how I wish I could!

I would put my hand out, and she would hop right in. "Light as a feather!" I'd think to myself, marveling at the rhythm of her tiny heartbeat against my fingers. Her warm little body would fit just perfectly in my palm, and I'd carry her inside, out of the rain for a few minutes. Maybe blot her off with a hand towel, if she didn't mind, then introduce her to Lady, Lucky, and Lucy. Lady would want a closer look and would be doing her "I'm-not-really-jumping-up" jumping up, in which she sort of bounces, half raising herself up, but not quite enough to get scolded for it. I would have to say "No Lady, back back." Then we'd all go into the living room to sit for a spell. Oh, wouldn't that be fun!