Don't leave me!!! Early this morning, quite a ruckus could be heard just outside the front door. Panicking that a rat snake had found the baby wrens, I hurriedly opened the french doors and stared at the hanging basket that held the nest. Nope. nary a snake could be found. Then my thoughts went to the squirrels that are always climbing about the arbor. Knowing that squirrels are not above eating baby birds, I searched again. Nary a squirrel could be found. A hawk, perhaps? Nope, nary a hawk was in the vicinity. Something was up, though, as the parent wrens were having a fit in the tomato plants. So, I tippy-toed out to the garden and was surprised to see baby wrens struggling to learn to fly! My babies have left the nest! I settled in on the garden bench to watch. One, Two, Three. Where are the others? There were five in the nest, Wait! I see one snuggled down under the rose bush. Number Four!! Where is Number Five?? Try as I might, Number Five could not be found. Disheartened, I figured the noise I heard was Number Five being attacked by some predator.
Since I had not had my coffee yet...hey, I even forgot to slip on shoes...I headed back inside. Number Five lumbered around in the brain as I made coffee. Taking the mug back to the doorway, I stood looking out at the nest. Poor Number Five. It saddened me to think that, though I pulled the mama and nest through the tropical storm, I was not there to help when the littles left the nest. Poor Number Five!
Suddenly, "Peep". Huh? "Peep" I had to look. Gently, I pulled the basket aside and peered into the nest, Yep! Number Five was nestled deep inside! Whoa! Little One! Get yourself in gear, Buddy! The others are going to leave you behind! "PEEP!" Then, there was fluttering by my head! Mama Wren returned to urge Number Five from the nest. "Come on, Lazy Bones!", she seemed to be saying! Number Five stretched up to the edge of the nest and tumbled to the ground. Mama Wren hurriedly met him and encouraged him to the tomato plants. Once inside the branches, he felt braver and was hopping from limb to limb. Go, Number Five!! Catch up with your siblings! Now, the nest is empty and my heart feels happier! Hopefully, all five will continue with their lessons and not meet up with some dire fate. It is out of my hands now!
Early this morning, I needed a break from gardening so the front steps offered a shady spot. From there I could watch the clouds building over the Bay while I sipped my lemonade. It is also from there that I could listen to the sweet sounds of the baby wrens peeping in the hanging basket just above my head. The tiny birds get so excited when they hear the slightest noise as they think Mama and Papa are bringing food. To me, there is nothing better that babes of any ilk.
The parent wrens had no problem entering the nest while I was just an arm's reach from the nest. They have grown accustomed to my presence and just disregard the idea that I might harm them. I delighted in seeing the birds flit in, pop a morsel in a gaping mouth and dart out again. The search for food was never-ending! As I watched, I became aware of just what the birds were proffering as foodstuffs. A few caterpillars, a few odd bugs and a lot of spiders. SPIDERS!!! It seems that wrens have a thing for spider meals. After about the fifth spider serving, it occurred to me that perhaps spiders were easy to find and easy to obtain. Every nook and cranny about the bayou has some sort of eight-legged critter lurking therein. Wrens being the busy, little hunters they are, have no problem snatching up the tidbits.
Obviously, spiders are nutritious. Otherwise, those feisty baby birds would not be growing so fast. Another week and they will be ready to fledge. Learning to fly will be the next big step in their survival training. With that comes the lessons on hunting...perhaps even hunting spiders. For now, however, the birds are snug in their nest as the storms are building. Mama Wren is a wise bird to build her nest by the front door!
It is THAT time of year again and every eye around this area is watching the Gulf of Mexico. While the storm, Cristobal, is supposed to not strengthen too much, it is still threatening to dump copious amounts of rain on us. Yes, the landfall is supposed to be in Louisiana but that puts us on that east side. Anyone who knows anything about hurricanes knows that is NOT where you want to be. Of course, like other storms, our little area will cope even without the media attention. Always have...always will. We prepare. We ride out the storm. We carry on.
My one big beef with this storm is that it is coming so early in the season. Why is that a problem? Well, my garden is at its peak right now and any high winds, torrential downpours or flying debris will wreak havoc on the plants. Seriously, I may as well call it a season and not worry about any more fresh veggies. Thankfully, I was able to home can plenty for our winter stock already so we are good to go.
Today, as I was wandering about making a few minor storm preparations, I stopped to admire the healthy plants and thought how fortunate we are to be able to "uproot" ourselves and hunker down inside the Little Bayou House. The plants and critters do not have that luxury. They take the brunt of the storm. In fact, just outside the front door (south side), a little wren is sitting on five eggs in the hanging fern. The tiny bird will not give up her nest if at all possible even if that old basket gets to banging around uncontrollably. This fretted me something fierce so I secured her little home along with ours. Armed with some strong wire, I reinforced the hanging chains and ran guy wires from the sides of the basket to the main posts. The basket barely wiggled now so hopefully, my little friend will be safe. Son and I have a difference in opinions about my efforts. He says I am interfering with the course of nature. I say I am trying to help a friend. Either way, what is done..is done. Stay safe, folks, stay safe. (Stay safe, Little Wren, stay safe!)
Son keeps after me to "let nature take its course" when it comes to the critters of the Bayou. I admit that I find that difficult at times. Take for example a few years back when I "rescued" about a dozen skink eggs from sure ruin in a tropical storm. I had found the mother skink and her clutch of eggs the day before the storm hit and watched them closely as the tide edged nearer and nearer the nest. As waves started sloshing around the nest site, I could not stand it and raced down the hill to rescue what remained of the nest. With a dozen ready to hatch eggs in my shirt, I trudged back up the hill in the pouring rain to relocate them in the greenhouse. On the way up the hill, three little skinks hatched in my hands! Over the years, I have saved a baby 'possum, a few squirrels, a couple of baby mockingbirds and a rat snake. (The snake needed rescuing from several crows!) With each rescue, Son reprimands me. "Mom, you have to learn to let things occur as they are meant. Let nature do its own thing." I always agree and tell him I will try to do better.
Recently, this rescuing came into action again but I just did not tell Son! A pair of wrens made their nest in the oddest of places and were prime targets for a snake invasion. Sure enough, a rat snake (probably the one I rescued) was found winding its way up to the nest of baby birds. Oh, no you don't!!! In one swift movement, I grabbed the snake and pulled it free from the board covering the nest. The snake was bewildered which gave me plenty of time to relocate it before it thought much about why it was suddenly not having breakfast. The parent wrens were in an understandable frenzy about this whole ordeal but soon went on about raising their brood. That nest was near the shed and happily all five little ones survived. Mama Wrens are not above reusing an old nest for their second brood of the season but this little mama decided against it. She has relocated.
This afternoon, I noticed something strange about the hanging fern that I was rooting. The basket hangs right next to the steps that I use about two dozen times a day. It is within easy reach since I want to keep it well watered while the fern roots. As I looked at my basket, I had to smile. Mama Wren decided to move her nest near the person that helped her earlier this spring. The neatest little nest is being made in the hanging basket. I guess she knew that I would help her if needed and decided to make it easier for me to watch over her brood. At least this nest is not an easy target for a snake since hopefully, I will be able to see it much quicker than back by the shed. Smart bird! Good Mama!
Years and years ago, we came across a great deal on some ceramic-making supplies that included two large kilns. One was in perfect working condition (and still is!) but the other had major problems. To get the good stuff...we had to take the bad stuff. So, the working kiln was put inside and the non-working one sat by the shed. For a while it was covered but, eventually, the cover disintegrated and the kiln sat out in the weather. Folks wonder why we still have the thing. I wonder the same. The best answer I can give is in the form of a question. Have you ever moved a large kiln? If so, no further answer is needed. If not, just so you will know, a large kiln like the ones I have weigh in around 550 lbs. Moving them is not easy...trust me.
For a while, I fretted over the broken kiln being in the yard. It was an eyesore, to say the least. Then, as she always does, Mother Nature lent me a helping hand. A couple of years ago, I noticed several small Japanese Holly Ferns peeping out of the cracks in the metal housing. Wherever the inner bricks were exposed, tiny ferns took root. Soon, the entire kiln was one big mound of ferns! I was elated! Instead of an eyesore, Mother Nature had turned the old kiln into a Fern Farm! I now have a never-ending supply of baby ferns! To get ferns for the hanging baskets or gardens, I need to look no further than that old kiln. The ferns are easy to snap off and transplant! They are fine, healthy ferns with a nice root ball so they happily take to where they are planted.
Japanese Holly Ferns are named because their leaves resemble holly tree leaves with their pointy edges. The ferns are shade lovers which works out perfectly for the Bayou as we have many oak trees dotted about the place. Also, since we are in the Deep South, the ferns are hardy here all winter. Even if a frost turns the leaves brown, they come right back out.
I pulled several baby ferns from the kiln and potted them in a hanging basket with the idea of doing many more over the next week. Son has plans to build a huge arbor over the french doors and it is my idea that the hanging baskets of ferns would look rather nice there. Thankfully, my Fern Farm just keeps producing! Maybe, that old kiln was a blessing in disguise. Maybe, it is all in how you look at things. Maybe, I should learn to trust Mother Nature a bit more.
