Waiting For the Turn
It was pretty blustery out there the morning I took this photo. The kind of wind that forces cold air into every opening in your clothing. The movement of the wind spinners and the dancing tree branches matched the ruffling of this house wren’s feathers.
He landed on the feeder hook and pulled himself into a small, round bundle. What you miss in the photo is how he fluffed up just before I hit the shutter. It’s their way of trapping air to stay warm. Survival disguised as fluff, ha!
Watching him there felt like more than that. He looked… thoughtful.
I couldn’t know for sure, but to me he seemed to be pausing. A stillness that didn’t feel defeated by winter, just patient inside of it.
Of all the birds that come and go throughout the year, the house wren brings the most animation, no matter the season. Quick movements, keen awareness, always busy. I’m sure I’ve seen them run across the deck and weave around the planters.
But today he was holding his ground in the cold. Perhaps, like me, waiting for the season to turn.
Wrens tend to keep to themselves, usually as a pair. When spring finally arrives, that quiet presence transforms into one of the most eloquent songs you’ll hear from the woods just off the deck.
A full, confident melody escaping from such a small body. The male even builds several nests, leaving the final choice to his partner. How’s that for feathered optimism? Preparation meeting possibility.
Standing there in the cold wind, I had to believe I wasn’t the only one carrying a memory of those songs. No singing yet. Just the quiet certainty that it’s coming.
That’s a lot of feeling for this time of year. Maybe one doesn’t come without the other.
Winter still has work to do. You can feel it.
Sharp air. Firm ground. Yet somewhere inside it all is a promise that doesn’t rush and doesn’t panic. Just wait, prepare, and trust the rhythm of the season.
And like this little wren, fluffed against the cold, we will be ready for what comes next.
“Adopt the pace of nature. Her secret is patience.”
— Ralph Waldo Emerson
Talk soon…
G