Nurtured By Love

What you may not be able to see from the photos is that mama wren is flying back and forth collecting pine seeds to feed to her babies.  Her mother tongue is a beautiful chatty sing song.  She starts it a little too early in the morning but that is okay.  I wonder when the babies start to sing, or if they are already singing her songs.

The photos are moving to me for layers of reasons.  One day we are beak to beak feeding our kids and the next day they are flying away.

My dad and Calvin made this wren house.  You can tell my mother painted it because she paints flowers on everything she makes.   The branch it hangs on is dead.  It's only purpose is to hang the bird house high enough to be safe from the cat and low enough that we can see the birds.

I'm glad mama wren liked the faux log cabin pattern enough to move in.  I'm glad for the tin roof to protect them.  I'm glad Bill was home to take these pictures.  I'm glad for the time my Dad and Calvin spent to make the bird houses.  Life is fragile.  Time is fragile.