Poor little Bewick’s Wren (Thryomanes bewickii) got into a tussle with another bird — perhaps a house finch, I’m not sure. In escaping, it ran into a window at my mother-in-law’s house. Rebounding from that, it ran into a net that keeps the plum trees (see trees behind) from dumping all their leaves into her pool. I worried about this net when they put it up but it’s been more than a year and we’ve never had a bird get caught in it. I think they can see it just fine (it’s the same kind used to keep birds off fruit trees) but this one was in a panic. Repeating silently in my head, “Tom can do this, so can I! Tom can do this, so can I! Tom can do this, so can I!“, I gently extracted the bird from the netting. I held it carefully while checking to see if it had any blood or other obvious signs of injury.
In a moment, it wanted to sit on my hand (and poop, clearly) so I let it. As I held it, I quietly asked Ruth to get my camera and she took these first two pictures. I figured it was a House Wren but I’m pretty sure it’s actually a Bewick’s Wren (Lifer! Nope, not a lifer — saw one at Elkhorn Slough before!) That strong white eye stripe is pretty telling.
Ruthie gave the camera to Greg who captured what happened next. The little darling didn’t want my hand anymore but must have felt safely camoflauged on my shirt — how clever of me to dress like a Wren that day). It stayed on my shirt for a few minutes. I actually walked over and sat in my chair — we were having appetizers and cocktails by the pool when all this happened. It stayed with me for a few minutes and then flew off — it was still a little dazed and managed to flounder back into the net — I got up and went over but it slipped through the net (clever bird) and flew into the plum tree to rest some more. We let it be — clearly it had recovered.
I felt so lucky to hold this delicate creature — it was like holding air — and that it trusted me enough to let me give it the time it needed for recovery. I’m so grateful that my daughter got to see it — although she didn’t get touch it as she wanted to. An encounter like that with nature will stick with a child (and a grown woman) forever. Thank you, little wren!