Two little brown wrens flew about on the developed side of Panoramic Mountain.
They came to a quiet rose garden. There were signs of someone with a caring touch, and an eye for beauty.
Suddenly Mrs. Wren spied the large harvest wreath on the front door of the house. Billowing slightly in the breeze was the stiff fabric skirt of the angel attached at the top. She flew in underneath, and immediately felt sheltered from the chilly wind. Why this wreath was made of twigs and straw!
Just a bit higher was a place where the wire netting holding it all in place was broken. She crept in closer, and found she could pull out some straw and create a hole inside that was firm and wonderfully warm.
Hearing a searching chirp, she ducked out from under the angel's skirt to let her husband know she'd found the perfect home. He came to help. In no time they had a deep nest inside the upper right side of the wreath.
Suddenly their whole world moved and shuddered with a hard clap.
They'd never been out and away on their wings so fast!
From a distance they watched Margie rake up some dead growth in her flower beds, and gathered up decorator items to take in for the winter. When she disappeared, they headed back to their nest to check it out.
They settled in again.
At dusk they went to sleep. Suddenly their whole world moved and crashed with a loud noise again. Once more they flew away in panic.
An hour or so later, getting rather soaked in the rain, they decided to go back. It was fine. Once more they settled down.
The next day it all repeated! This time they recognized the creaking of the door's hinges as it began to open. "Twice burned, thrice shy," Mr. Wren said, and they took off just before the KaBOOM.
They spied from a very high tree as Margie turned to look at the wreath. She peeked underneath the angel's skirt.
That night, about dusk, they heard someone's footsteps coming up the path towards the door. Quickly they whipped up and out from under the angel's skirt. Mrs. Wren's wing ticked the man's cap and it rolled away. She nearly had a heart attack and scolded her husband about having to find a new home right away.
He promised to go looking at sun rise, but when they saw the door remained silent a long time they ventured back to their nest.
They could not find another nesting place the next day and when they tried their wreath nest once more it felt so good, so warm and cosy, they were loath to give it up.
Strangely enough, the door did not open or slam any more. Margie and her son John started coming and going from the back door, and walked around the house. They often stopped to look at the wreath, but the Wrens sensed only good will from them.
About the Author: Ruth Marlene Friesen is a novelist, web designer and friend with more imagination that she can use up! You'll find her touch and words all over Ruthe's Secret Roses, and about half a dozen other sites. Ruth tends to get involved if you become her friend! She takes mentoring seriously.
Ruth Marlene Friesen
The Responsible One
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Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada