Rita the Staghorn Wren

I was outside this evening listening to a beautiful aria by a bird sitting on our electrical wires. Spring is definitely here because we are serenaded each morning and evening by various avian vocalists.  In the front yard we have a wren.  I like to think it is Rita, the Staghorn Wren from last year.  The wrens come back every year. 

 Sometimes they nest on top of a pillar in our carport. 

Other years they thrill me by nesting in my special "nesting pots" that I bought during a trip to Williamsburg years ago.  The Colonists would attach these to their houses so birds would nest and then feast upon mosquitoes, thus pest control.  I thought they were so clever and, well, I just liked them.

But last spring Rita the Wren decided to build her nest in Bananas, our Staghorn Fern.  It was over a month of careful monitoring by Mr. Tennis and I (and our bad cats).  We saw Rita sitting on her eggs. Then she would fly off (because we tried to take a picture) and then we saw the eggs!  How exciting!  I kept the cats away after I heard the baby birds cheeping.  I was afraid to take a picture of them, Rita wouldn't have liked it at all.  Then one day I looked out the back window and Rita was giving flying lessons and it was over.  Just like that!

This year Rita has chosen a grouping of palms we have by the side of our driveway.  She's a smart cookie to keep moving her nesting spot.  But she's also a loud cookie every morning.  Sometimes she sits on Mr. Tennis' side mirror on his car and wakes us up.  I have yet to get a picture of her doing that, but I will.  Oh yes, I will.

To Rita!