This past Wednesday morning I was privileged to observe two baby Bewick’s Wrens, Thryomanes bewickii, fledge from their protected abode into the big, wide world of my garden and the neighborhood beyond. During the previous weeks it’s been a true pleasure to watch the parents, one after another, bring bits of limbs and grass into the nestbox, and later, provide nummies for their chicks.
This parent is ready to leave the nestbox after a birdie door dash delivery.
Bewick’s Wrens aren’t the prettiest of birds, as they’re coloring is muted in tan and grey. But they are some of the cutest little things, with their light “eyebrows” and tiny, energetic selves.
An unknown something sits in the parent’s beak, ready for hungry chicks,
…and at another feeding time, something different for mealtime.
Often, one of the parents would land at the hole of the nest box and peer in. It didn’t necessarily bring food, but apparently wanted to check on the kids, like any good parent.
I like the S curve of this parent’s form, just before take-off to find more food for the babies.
Each morning at sunrise, once it was clear that the chicks had hatched, the parents took turns bringing food offerings to their offspring and that work lasted the whole day. Sometimes the treat was a safflower seed or a small blob of suet from feeders in my garden, most other times, insects were the choice de moment. The parents worked tirelessly to bring food for their little ones in an impressive demonstration of shared parental responsibilities. A couple of times, toward the end of a day, I’d spy an adult wren perched somewhere, sitting and resting, probably worn out from the ongoing care of its young ones.
Until the last day, the chicks were quiet in the nestbox until they heard or felt the parent land on the box. At that point, lots of sweet baby cheep cheep commenced, the chicks voicing their hunger and readiness to eat. On the day that I witness the two young wrens leave the nestbox, there was constant chatter from the box, until there were no more chicks in residence.
I had just walked into the catio, when I realized that one of the parents was atop the nestbox, while a little head–a smaller, exact replica of the parent’s–was at the nestbox window. The little wren belted out with great confidence, flitting upwards and out of my sight. A bit later, I realized that another chick was at the window, but this one was reticent about joining its sibling and parents. I watched for about 15 minutes, the chick poking its head out, looking around, making efforts to perch at base of the hole as if ready for flight, only to lose confidence and disappear back into the box. The chick repeated this pattern several times. Eventually, it gathered enough gumption and plunged out of the box, winging upwards, lightly touching the overhang of the catio roof on its way out, and then on to a Turk’s Cap limb at the back of the garden where I lost sight of the newest garden resident. Of course, I’m kicking myself that I didn’t grab my camera during that time, but I didn’t want to miss a minute of this little one’s entrance into the world. Sometimes it’s more rewarding to simply observe.
I saw two chicks exit the nest box, but there certainly could have been one or two more that left before I came on to the wrens-leaving-home show. For the rest of that day, there was a constant tsch tsch tsch of adult Bewick’s Wrens, no doubt giving the newest garden inhabitants advice about their wider, more complicated home: Look both ways before you fly to the tree! Be careful in that shrub! Don’t eat that, it’s bad for you! Eat this, it’s good for you! Watch out for the Blue Jays, they’re obnoxious bullies! That weird human is going to want to take pics of you, steer clear of her!
I’ve definitely seen the adults, but I’m not sure I’ve actually seen any chicks. I wish them well; the world certainly benefits with more wrens in it, I think. They are darling little birds with big personalities and glorious songs.
My Gardener Says... 
Riffing off the Rodgers and Hart song, we can say your encounter left you Bewicked but not at all bothered and bewildered.
Your post marks my first encounter with the word nummies. Wondering if that was a typo for yummies, I searched and found in Wiktionary that nummy is “a juvenile variant of yummy.” The Oxford English Dictionary defines nummies as a North American colloquialism meaning “delicious, appetizing food; ‘goodies,’” and gives its earliest citation from 1987: “They found a bag containing candies, cherries, and other nummies.”
As for catio, which you’ve used before and whose meaning isn’t hard to figure out, AI notes that “the term ‘catio’ (a portmanteau of ‘cat’ and ‘patio’) originated in the mid-to-late 2000s. While the specific originator is undocumented, the concept gained mainstream popularity around 2009 to 2010 through specialized designers and DIY communities. It describes a permanent or temporary enclosed outdoor structure allowing cats to experience nature safely.”
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I was bewitched by the Bewick’s wrens, but not bothered in any way!
I meant to write and ‘n’ and not a ‘y’ for _ummies. It’s just a different word for treat or food.
And yes, catio. Ours is a covered patio that was kind of converted (more like added to) to make it safe for the cats and for nature. https://mygardenersays.com/2023/03/23/patio-cats-catio/
That’s another regret of these last few weeks, that I didn’t take a photo of my youngest cat, perched on the ledge closest to where the birdhouse hangs, watching the comings/goings of the adult wrens. The wrens would chastise her, but they seem to know they were safe from her.
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It is a wonderful feeling to see new life getting started. I had a similar experience with my Carolina Wrens. There was one that wouldn’t come out, one that hit my glass door, but finally the parents got them lined up on our porch wall and all together headed out.
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It really is heartwarming and life affirming to see the the young birds grow and enter the world. I wish we made it easier for them, though.
Frick and Frack! You’ll need to come up with another pair of F and F, though probably not Carolina Wrens where you are. 🙂
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One Carolina Wren did show up at the feeder. They normally don’t eat a lot of seeds, but at least I know they are around.
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Maybe the new Frick–n-Frack!
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What a wonderful experience! I need to figure out how to suspend some wren houses where they won’t be disturbed. I would love to see a fledging event.
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It’s so rewarding to watch them. My husband built this little house at least 10 years ago. Carolina Wrens, Carolina Chickadees, and Black-crested Titmice have all shown interest. The Titmice actually laid eggs in it once, then were driven off by House Sparrows. Boo! But last year and this year have been the only successful families, so I hope that trend will continue.
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Sweet post, Tina. I don’t think we have Bewick’s wrens, but we do have the similar Carolina wren, who have been very loudly announcing their territory of late. 🙂
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Thanks, Eliza! Carolinas are just as cute and sing beautifully as well! We have both here. Interestingly, I’ve mostly had the Carolinas in my garden and neighborhood, for years. It’s only in the past couple of years that Bewick’s have appeared in my garden. I’m tickled to have both!
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I agree completely that there are times when observing is as satisfying as a dive for the camera: and sometimes moreso. The modern tendency to think everything has to be documented (including restaurant meals and such) actually can distance us from what’s happening around us.
I remember hearing about Bewicks wrens, but I’m sure I’ve never seen one. As small as the adults are, those babies must be remarkably tiny. What a treat to see one fledge! I did grin at Steve’s unfamiliarity with ‘nummies.’ Far be it from me to quibble with the Oxford English, but I knew that word before I moved to Liberia, and that was in 1983, so it’s been around for a while longer, along with that expression of appreciation: “Oh, num!”
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