A few years ago, our friend Pat gave us a funky little birdhouse resembling a camera.
We never expected anyone to occupy it, but to our delight, recently a pair of Bewick’s Wrens took up residence.
They built a nest, and a week ago, the eggs hatched. Now, when a parent approaches to feed the nestlings, they all peep, “Me, me, me!”
Both parents share childcare, feeding the babies…
…and changing diapers too. The nestlings poop into mucus bags resembling pea-sized white balloons, nature’s zip-locs, which contain the mess until their parents remove it. Eco-friendly disposable diapers!
Day after day, from sunrise until sunset, rain or shine, the ‘wrents’ forage for insects for their young. Every five minutes or so, they bring food and remove the fecal sack on the way out, keeping the nest clean. They’re averaging over 300 deliveries per day!
How can such fragile creatures, weighing no more than 3 or 4 ounces, sustain such a grueling pace? Not once, but twice each season, Bewick’s Wrens produce a brood.
Once common back east, they’ve all but disappeared east of the Mississippi. Pesticides took their toll, and loss of habitat. Conditions changed, other populations moved in. House Wrens expanded their territory into that of the Bewick’s Wren, and aggressively destroyed the eggs and nests of Bewick’s Wrens.
Illustration of Bewick’s Wren by J. G. Keulemans, 1881.
A subspecies, Guadalupe Bewick’s Wren, native to Guadalupe Island, Mexico, went extinct in the 1890s, due to habitat destruction. The San Clemente Bewick’s Wren died out in the 1940’s, due to habitat destruction by feral goats, and cats. In California, development of canyons has caused a sharp decline in the Bewick’s Wren population.
When I saw omnivorous crows and Stellar’s Jays swoop in, I moved my office to the dining room table, where I could keep watch and shoo them away. So much can happen, and so quickly. Babies can fall from the nest. A brood can fall prey to a cat, a snake, an invasion of wasps. A parent can be snatched by a Cooper’s Hawk.
Last week, one of my own little Bewick’s Wrens was caught by my neighbor’s cat, who took it home via the cat door. My neighbor saved and released the wren before it was harmed. I was relieved that it returned to its nest. If birds feel threatened by lurking predators, including humans, they sometimes abandon the nest, leaving the babies to starve. It seems harsh, but instinct drives them to protect themselves, so they might live to breed again, and perpetuate the species.
The balance between survival and destruction is precarious. Driven by their survival instinct, they make tough choices, and work themselves half to death to ensure the survival of the species, if not their brood. Ironically, we call them birdbrains, and claim to be the intelligent ones.
We’ve overpopulated this planet, yet instead of conserving our resources, we’re tearing through them like there’s no tomorrow. Instead of protecting the future of our young, we tilt at windmills; but some countries are embracing them. Iceland gets 100% of its energy from renewable resources. 99% of Costa Rica’s, and 98% of Norway’s energy is clean and renewable. Those socially responsible governments have taken the lead, right across the high ground, and shown the whole world that it can be done.
While humanity teeters on the brink of self-destruction, and other governments take action, in the United States, our corrupt leaders ignore grave warnings of virtually every climate scientist in the world. This administration behaves like common looters, greedily stuffing their own pockets, while the building they were hired to protect burns all around them.
In a BBC interview, scientific genius, the late Stephen Hawking, said that pollution, coupled with greed and stupidity, was the biggest threat to the human race, and that climate change would be humanity’s extinction event. “With the development of militarized technology and weapons of mass destruction…the best chance for the survival of the human race might be independent colonies in space.”
But what if, instead, we could be tireless caregivers, make those tough choices, those sacrifices, and be willing to do whatever it takes to ensure the survival of the species–all of them? What if we could think like a bird that gets spit out by a cat and flies straight back to defend its nest? Unlike birds, people can’t just pick up and go make a new nest; we have only this one small planet to call home. Unlike people, even birds know better than to foul their own nest.
All words and images ©2019 Naomi Baltuck
All words and images ©2015 NaomiBaltuck.
Zaphod from Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, T’Pau the Queen Bitch of Vulcan from Classic Trek episode Amok Time, and Doc Brown from Back to the Future. When Back to the Future was made in 1985, the distant future to which Doc travels is set in the year 2015! Yikes! If you think three weeks goes fast, see how fast three decades will sneak up on you.
The whole town turns out for Gallery Walk. Every shop and gallery in town serves refreshments and features local artists. People come out in droves, wearing their sequins and snowboots. 
I popped over to Annie Kaill’s and saw my sister’s painting, Holiday House, in the front window of the shop. This festive painting was on loan to the gallery from its owners. Someone I talked to said he overheard people praising the painting in St. Petersberg! My favorite art tells a story, and this one tells a story I know. Constance painted it as a gift for her neighbors Jeff and Terry. Look closely and you can see Jeff in his brown overalls on a ladder, putting up his Christmas lights. 
Jeff is the kind of neighbor every neighborhood wants and needs, but few are fortunate enough to have. When he mows his own lawn, he also cuts the grass of an elderly neighbor. If Constance comes home and finds her driveway shoveled, she can guess who did it. Constance met him for the first time decades ago, when she bought a sandbox for her kids out in the valley and it wouldn’t fit in her car. She recognized him and, not knowing what else to do, asked a stranger’s help transporting it in his pickup. It was all set up in her yard when she got home. On our visit to Juneau last summer he heard that my son Eli was interested in fishing, and offered to take him out on his boat. Jeff helped Eli land a thirty pound king salmon. It was the highlight of his trip–all of ours, really, because eight of us ate fresh King salmon every night and there was still some to share with the neighbors. 
Every year Jeff spends the weeks preceding Christmas putting up tens of thousands of lights on his house, and at least a dozen Santas and snowmen. His electric bill spikes each December, but the people of Juneau count on him to put some serious twinkle into their holiday. 
Some people save their treasures for heaven, but I think there’s a twinkle light shining on his house for each kindness Jeff has paid to others. They add up, all those little lights, and push back the darkness for us all.
Writing Between the Lines 