The Cactus Wren is the State Bird of Arizona, where I live. At 7 to 9 inches tall, he (or she) is the largest Wren in the United States. He's a very handsome bird, decorated in fancy stripes and speckles and with a sleek body and a pointy hunter's beak. He's also very noisy, with a kind of char-char-char-char call rather than a sweet song. So, it's nice that he's so pretty......
I discovered the Wren's nest before I met the bird. [See nest below.] It was impressive! Snuggled and stuffed into the arms of a Jumping Cholla cactus, I wasn't sure how this delicate birdie had managed to craft an amazing nest without impaling himself on the cactus needles. But, obviously, he had done so and, with his mate, lived to raise a family who had survived growing up in a home wedged into a pin cushion. Amazing.
A few days after I spotted the nest, I went back with my camera. I walked right up to the obviously abandoned nest to take a picture when, suddenly, and I mean SUDDENLY, a Wren popped out and gave me what can only be described as "the look." I jumped back and kinda shrieked. He cut out and flew to a tree across the street from which he proceeded to lecture me, "char-char-char-char," until I took my picture and backed off.
I became attached to this little Wren after that first encounter.
The Cactus Wren doesn't abandon her (or his) home after the kids have gone. It's built to last for more than a season, unlike some other birds who craft disposable nests which look like the kids have trashed it and moved out. The Cactus Wren's nest is sturdy and engineered for another brood, or just to be a secure place for hanging out. To me, the Wren expressed a real pride of ownership.
I've lived in many homes since leaving my family home. I've tried to make each one a nest, (even when doing so with meager funds) a place where the inside felt safe from the outside. Over the years, I've discovered that this urge says something about me. I've also learned that how each one of us creates, shapes and defines our living space says something about who we are at a given moment in time. If we reflect back upon where and how we've lived, we can catch a glimpse of where we've been and where we are now, and of who we've been and who we've become. And with this perspective on our history, we can chart a course forward with insight and wisdom. Hopefully, along the way, our nests improve, becoming more sturdy . . . as we do.
I like that the Cactus Wren takes the idea of home seriously. He or she is one solid dude or dudette.