I’ve enjoyed the Wrens at Einar this year. They’ve been a joy. Their lives are led in a sheltered garden, full of bushes and small trees with long stone walls and plenty of food in crevices. It’s a different life out on the beach, where I find this Wren on a barbed wire fence:
It’s on an exposed beach, with the sand blowing and waves roaring. I can see it taking food into a nest which is on the low cliff, tucked neatly under the overhanging turf. You don’t see many shots of flying Wrens, do you?
And then it’s back, perched again, ready for another meal time. I wonder what life is like when your kids are hungry every two minutes and they go from hatching to leaving home in just over a fortnight. This Wren knows.
Life must be a blur.
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