I love the trill of a nesting house wren. My ears pick it out of the jumble of sounds in the yard and I can hardly concentrate on anything else while my eyes dart around looking for the little bird. This is why every birdhouse I’ve ever put up has only a small hole, too big for any other bird to slip into. Unfortunately, I never seem to get a wren family, although they’ve built nests before. I’ve read that the male builds several nests and his female counterpart chooses the one she likes the best.
This year I noticed that both my wren houses have been altered by someone who was mad they couldn’t squeeze into the hole. Probably sparrows, or maybe the barn swallows I see swooping about the barn and the front porch in the spring. I guess some occupant is better than none. I’ll give up trying to manage the bird population and just enjoy the show.