
After hearing mysterious chirps coming from the basement this morning, we rooted around until we found this tiny injured baby wren just inside the door. I refuse to kick the wrens out when they nest above the dryer-- they are one of the few examples of wildlife I can witness up close in the city. I reacted as I was taught by my father as a young girl...put on some gloves, put the bird in a shoebox, and see if it recovers. Unfortunately, this one had a heart attack when I scooped it into the box, and died suddenly. It was quite tragic for me, since last year's brood of house wren hatchlings were snatched by a red-tailed hawk right outside my window on the day they fledged. I had hoped for a better fate for this year's babies. We buried it at the feet of St. Francis in the backyard and sowed wildflower seeds on its grave.
so sad. thank you for painting this though and sharing it...
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