An Unexpected and Welcome Visitor

   Most birders will say when asked, that their favorite bird is the last one seen.   That can be true, especially if you're on a trip seeing lots of new and unusual birds.  But I think my backyard crew is closest to my heart, and the wren family is closest to the top of the list.

During the recent heavy weather I scattered hulled sunflower seed on a stone bench near a window in order to see who came in for breakfast.  It's a perfect spot, situated near a big old alder tree where the birds can shelter.  A mixed flock would pour down from the alder into the shorter escallonia, take a look around, then move, one by one, to the potted maple and gingko trees that  overhang the stone bench.  Birds have to be cautious: you never know what bigger bird may have you in its sights for breakfast.

Visitors included the usual suspects: towhees, song sparrows, lots of juncoes, red-winged blackbirds.  Three Stellar's jays would sometimes noisily arrive like ill-mannered party guests and scatter everyone else.  Two flickers would occasionally  squat on the bench and peer curiously at the seed.  Because of the flat, hard surface of the stone and their longish bills, they would have to tilt their heads sideways to carefully glean a seed.

But then - an unexpected guest.  A Bewick's wren.  Short, finely striped tail tilted straight up, lovely light eyebrow  over a bright, bead eye.  His back brown as a nut, he was the picture of optimism on a windy and harsh day.  The wren preferred to glean seed where it had fallen into two big soil-filled pots next to the bench.  I was surprised because wrens are mainly insect eaters.  I can't recall seeing one at a feeder.  But times were hard, the wind was blowing, and many birds are opportunists.  

I used to live next door to a pair of Bewick's wrens who lived in the dense hedge in our side yard in Portland.  The male would sit atop the hedge and sing his lovely sparrow-like song and the female would poke her head out  to watch him, near their hidden nest.  Some of the best neighbors ever.  Later in the spring I would see their slightly scruffy brown-grey fledglings, but none ever came to one of my feeders that I know of.

By the way, this wren was 'discovered' by John James Audubon.  He named it after an English  friend who was a skilled wood engraver and bird lover.  The usual pronunciation is 'Buick' - like the car.

Now that the weather has softened at least for the moment, it's good to see the wren skulking in the dense shrubs near the house.  Later this spring, when I see little fluffs of new wrens lined up on a branch with a parent, I'll be happy  to think I made life a bit easier during the hard times.