Absolute scenes here today at Einar as the Wrens fledged.
I’ve been watching the parents bringing invertebrates into one of my ‘useful assortment of outbuildings’ for the last week. There are two doors to it and I’m surprised to find they use both. I say doors, however both doors have long since been defeated by the weather and only exist in my imagination. They’re still doorways, but there are no doors. They are very wary of giving the position of the nest away, so linger outside, checking the coast is clear with beaks full of food, so giving away the position of the nest. Here’s one from earlier in the week:
Today is the day, finally, when bright, fresh, naive little Wrens get to see the outside world for the very first time. There is crash-landing into trees, there is ditching into long grass and there is desperate clinging onto walls.
I’d love to be all scientific and tell you how many there were but I really can’t tell. There may have been three, there may have been four. I have no idea. When you’ve had fluffy little ping-pong balls fluttering around you for an hour then you may be confused, too.
It’s the lack of direction when they’re flying which gets me. The lack of any appreciable tail means they can change direction only very, very slowly, which, since they fly fast and straight, is no use to them at all. Once they’ve set off flying they’re an unguided missile and will hit anything they’ve aimed themselves at. At least that would be the case if it wasn’t blustery, which means they can end up anywhere.
I hope you’ll enjoy my photographs as much as I enjoyed spending my time with them.