For the past few years, ever since my Mom’s friend Olivia died one January, a Carolina Wren has taken to visiting the apartment over the winter. The first visit, within days of Olivia’s death, felt like a spiritual visit from Olivia herself, to let us know that she was okay, and to say goodbye. When the wren (or a different wren) returned the next year, it seemed like Olivia was checking in on us, and letting us know that her spirit was flying free.
This year has been different. A Carolina Wren has come into the apartment four or five times already, usually on the coldest, snowiest days. She (I always assume she’s a she) sometimes stays overnight, flying from one room to another, sampling the kibble, taking a bath in the water bowls, singing a few songs, leaving poop on the curtains and then heading out.
The dogs never seem to mind the visits, even when the little bird is singing full out or flying over their heads.
On her third visit this winter, in the middle of a snowstorm, a second Carolina Wren came in with her. I don’t know if it was her mate (he was a little fatter than she was), or another bird, curious about where she kept escaping to when everyone else was freezing. Our Carolina Wren did not seem to appreciate the company. The bigger bird perched on the top of my bookcase while the little one did gymnastics on the curtain rod, and tried and failed to land on a bare lightbulb, and two-stepped her way down the curtain in my room. Finally the bigger bird decided to leave, but our little Wren stayed a while longer.
During her next visit, when I was practicing the alto part for a choir recording, she decided to sing with me. She didn’t sing the tune I was singing, she sang her own, but she sang it in answer to me and along with me, insistently; maybe trying to figure out why I was singing the wrong song. Her voice was much bigger than mine, despite her tiny size, and it filled the whole apartment. There wasn’t much harmony between her song and mine, but there was a magic to it anyway. There was communication and echoing and solidarity and questioning; and it was beautiful.
It reminded me of how my old black lab mix, Dina, would hear us singing at Friday Night dinner and add her howl to the song. I found out that if I hit certain notes, usually higher up in my register, it would set her off. And even if we weren’t singing the same song, we were singing together; and even if it didn’t sound right, it sounded like love.
I don’t know what it means that the Wren is visiting us more often, or even if it’s the same Wren each time. Maybe we’re listed on the Wren-airbnb site; maybe she’s looking for a nest, or for nesting materials (we have an enormous collection of fabric scraps); maybe she needs a respite from her mate and we seem friendly enough; or maybe there really is some communication between the spirit and bird worlds, and old friends are coming to visit in bird form. I’m not an expert on the afterlife, or on birds, but it’s nice to be visited, and it was nice to have someone to sing with in person, in this year of social distancing.
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rachelmankowitz 
This is beautiful!
Thank you!
Cricket on the recorder sounds promising. Or doesn’t sound that way, which you would know because you hear the playing. I think this post is especially well-written; it’s engaging and compelling. Our hearts are drawn into the story’s parts. Your mom, Olivia, the wrens in various configuration, Dina, Cricket, and you. Here you’ve crafted with your creature friends some love on the wing.
Thank you!
As usual a delightful post. When I lived in my farmhouse in Virginia, sometimes birds would fly into the house when one of the children left the screen door open. Alas, this usually ended in a frantic effort to get the poor creature out before one of the cats had something to say about said intruder/dinner. Often, not just poop splotches but blood trails resulted. Thank goodness your pups don’t see the little wren(s) as prey.
Oh no! I had a dog who chased birds, jumping off the back porch of my childhood home to try to catch them. I was too squeamish to watch.
It was awful. Cats being cats, but soooo brutal!
Eek!
I love this calm and mysterious wibe here🌻
Thank you!
Love this story ❤
Thank you!
That is beautiful!
Thank you!
What a precious, heartwarming blog! You are so blessed to have your trusting bird visitor. I love the singing together part – and her wondering why you were singing the wrong song! Also Dina, not singing the same song…but singing in love. Thanks for sharing this unique experience.
Thank you for reading!
Oftentimes whenever we see a particular bird or butterfly in our backyard, my wife and I imagine it being the reincarnation and visit from a former friend or pet. Especially when one of them happens to hover just near us for a while, before taking off.
Art
It’s such a powerful feeling!
What a lovely visitor. I love hearing our Robin and blackbirds in spring. The Robin is my closest companion as he or she always appears when I am gardening and pops into my little pottin shed.
We have some daring Robins in the yard who get pretty close, and then they see the dogs and fly away.
Birds love hair from the coat from dogs and cats, so if you are grooming your dogs you could keep their hair for when the wrens build their nest, hopefully close to the house.
What a lovely idea!
Do you know the Mary Oliver poem “The Wren From Carolina”? Lately it’s been my morning poem, something to say to myself before starting my day. I was so pleased to find a REAL one here in your blog.
I’ll look for it. Thank you!
How lucky! What a sweet and persistent visitor. How does she get in?
There’s a small opening next to the air conditioner, and probably a very big sign nearby saying we’re open for bird visitors.
So lovely. Thanks 😊
Thank you!
The 1st and 3rd photos look like a Carolina wren, but the 2nd photo looks like a female / juvenile house sparrow to me..!
Yes! We had a sparrow visit too and I accidentally used it in this post.
My word, how did the bird come and go ‘safely’? I’ve had birds in the house as we used to have a home with many sliders out onto a one story up deck. It did not always go well as the birds often panicked. I had two – three cats over the years we lived where the birds would come in. I’m sure the cats affected the outcome.
It is a lovely story though.
Thank you!
Your story reminds me of my grandmother- she loved cardinals & I think of her every time I see one 🙂
I love that!