It suddenly dawned on me earlier this week that I hadn’t seen or heard a wren for several months. Wrens, being such little birds, are notorious for suffering from severe population plummets during bad winters.
Today, while Jen was visiting her mum, I decided to head up the track into Crow Nest Wood, determined to see a wren. Before I’d even entered the wood, a tiny feathered blob flew out of the trees, landed on the drystone wall right in front of me, and blasted out its unmistakeable soprano-jackhammer song. I couldn’t believe my luck at such a perfect photo-opportunity.