*Sigh*

Well — here’s what I found when I climbed up in the loft and hung my camera over the nest:

I could see a few eggs, but on the small screen of my cell phone, it wasn’t entirely clear. I made a second pass and got this picture:

So the “squatter is now officially a “renter”. She’s a wren. These are wrens’ eggs. All 5 of them.

*Sigh*

All of the heavy *sighs* in this post are sighs of frustration and acceptance. I have a house to build. It’s effortful and requires learning new skills on a regular and ongoing basis in order to continue and make progress. it takes up a lot of time and energy to think everything through and make constant adjustments around weather and various other conditions that are in a constant state of flux.

In other words, it’s really hard.

On the other hand, the only way I can continue is to accept the changing conditions around this project with complete acceptance. If there’s one “tough love” lesson that life has taught me, it’s that I’ll suffer much less in the long run if I can take in the circumstances and conditions around me and simply accept them.

Often that means getting through layers of frustration, irritation, anger, disappointment, grief, sadness or one of many other negative emotions first. The key is not to create a story around the emotion as it arises, and to recognize it as it’s arising. It sounds easy in theory, but it’s a practice all its own that requires diligence and effort.

If I can stay with even the intention behind the practice, the emotion will do what it was designed and created to do: move. It can move through, and move on.

As long as the intellectual mind doesn’t get involved in rationalizing anything to do with the emotion, it cannot hang around for very long. In fact, it may be so brief that it’s simply a wave of something that washes through and over, cleansing the pallate. When it’s gone, there is this amazing space all around that is palpable and offers tremendous clarity. Following the clarity is acceptance and an understanding of what action needs to be taken next.

That said, I will take the observation offered by my mother (“Those birds are going to sh*t all over that area of the house, you know.”) and cover the surrounding area with leftover house wrap to hopefully make the cleanup much easier. Then I will need to learn how not to startle her too much so that we can adjust to one anothers’ presence and hopefully find a way to share the space amicably until it’s time for her and her fledglings to move on, which according to the Missouri Conservation website will be sometime in early August at the latest. I don’t know how long she’s been there. I was away at ITF in Nebraska last week, and didn’t go indoors much the week before that.

She doesnt’ instantly fly off when I walk in; she only revealed her position when I disturbed the wood near her nest.

I may try taking my cushion down there to sit in the loft so she can get used to my being in there with her, and hopefully it will settle her nerves a bit.

There will be some readers who don’t understand the choice I’m making in how I handle this situation — I realize that.

The simple fact is that the wren nesting in my house cannot change her nature any more than I can change my own. I’m building my nest in her territory, and she’s building her nest in mine. Each of us would insist that we have the ‘right’ to be there. As the only one between us with a rational mind to work with, however, and recognizing the situation we find ourselves in, it’s incumbent upon me to find a way to make this work peacefully and amicably for both of us.

Since wrens tend to nest near humans and in the same place  year after year, however, next year there will b a separate Tiny house waiting for my new seasonal guest that will offer her safety and privacy when she comes to stay.