As I walked towards the garage first thing this morning, I spooked a wren fledgling that had been hunting for insects by the wheely bin. It tried to fly over the garage roof, but couldn’t gain enough height, and crashed into the coal-hole door. It then flew off low, past the garage and outhouse, and disappeared into a crack in the drystone wall by the compost heap.
I wouldn’t mind betting the wren hatched in a nest somewhere very near its hiding place. We often see wrens by the compost heap. Rotting fruit and veg attract insects, and insects attract wrens.
“…wonderful. Science and history and geography and evolution and culture all tangled up in musings while walking about the moors around Hebden Bridge.”—PZ Myers
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