HOUSE FOR RENT

A big polar chill has come down through Canada with beaucoup snow in the upper midwest and hard freeze as far south as Louisiana. When that happens I retreat to the basement and make sawdust. The holiday season is almost here and gifts are on the to-do list. I quit worrying about what people want or need. What I know is that everybody needs a bird house. When I was teaching Biology in the early 80’s, I slipped in an ornithology unit. We learned bird songs from audio tapes and made coloring books full of bird's field markings. Then everybody had to go on at least two birding field trips either before or after school or on a Saturday morning. They grumbled at the time but in the following years, many kids confided that it was one of their favorite projects. I have been hooked since I was little; birds are special. 

Everything, everyone is special; but birds are absolutely, awesome special. Yes, they can fly and we can’t. We create flying machines but they are weak knock-offs for the real thing. I want to soar on uplifting thermals and I want to dive full speed into an oak tree, landing on a twig without a ding or a dent. I’d be happy eating bugs and seeds if I could do that. But my special isn't the right kind of special. All I can do is watch them and feel the joy vicariously. I love them all but woodpeckers are fantastic. When I hear one drumming, I’ll do just about anything to locate it, to set my eyes on it. Woodpeckers are experiencing a housing shortage. Development in cities and suburbs has reduced the number of suitable trees, with hollow cavities, where Woody’s nest. So I’ll build some woodpecker boxes. Maybe I can lure a pair of woodpeckers to the Ash tree in my back yard. The view is great and the rent is cheap.

My mother loved wrens. She had several wren houses in her yard and talked back to them through her kitchen window. When my brother was recuperating from cancer, wrens perched in a tree above his deck and chattered at him. He believed it was our mom reassuring him that everything would be alright. Now all wrens remind me of someone I grew up with and I make houses for them. I’m making wren houses for friends and family, gifts at gift giving time. I don’t think it will matter where it came from or how much it cost. It doesn’t need a guarantee or instructions. Just hang it in a tree and come April, listen for the rat-a-tat-tat, rapid fire notes of the wren’s song. They will complain when you come too close and discourage other birds, looking for mates and nest sites. Then if there's nothing else to chatter about, they can simply sing. I’ll be on the road soon enough and that takes me to another mindset but for now it’s wren houses.