The Edge of the Wold

By gladders

Wren

Foulshaw, Cumbria

I've been trying to get a shot of a wren for a long time. This one at Foulshaw had a beakful of food for her youngsters, but she was trying to distract me so that I wouldn't see the nest. She was successful, and after a couple of minutes watching her I left her alone.

What wonderful, adaptable little birds they are. For so tiny a bird, they have such a powerful song. And they are found in a wide range of habitats. I'm always amazed when I find them high up in the mountains living amongst stones in scree. During breeding bird surveys in the lowlands, singing wrens are often one of the most numerous birds recorded.

Another busy day at work today. The first few weeks in the new structure were quite quiet, but now that things are bedding down the pace is picking up. I suspect that we are in for a period of manic busyness, particularly as we feel the effects of the loss of staff who have gone on voluntary redundancy. I have felt quite tired this week, not helped by last week's cold hanging on, and I know I am falling behind in commenting on journals, and my own entries are getting shorter. Still, it's a long weekend ahead, and there's a bit of time to recharge the batteries...all we need is a bit of warmth and sunshine.

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