Solitary Song

(Carolina Wren)

Wrens are often seen—if they are seen at all—in a “tails up”posture. But when they are singing, they may squeeze out the very last breath of their surprisingly loud songs by dropping their tails and triggering them forward. That’s how I chose to paint my little denizen of the shadows.

I found a Carolina Wren one hot morning outside of St. Louis, MO. My brother and I and his attentive lab, Raven, were out for an early walk. In a corner of a mowed field, there was a spot shaded on two sides by trees with dense undergrowth—one side thick with berries. Songs twittered from the shadows but went silent as we approached. A convenient picnic table provided a comfortable place to wait the ten or so minutes it takes for most of nature to forget human presence. Sure enough, patience was rewarded by the resumption of the symphony of bird calls and the peek-a-boo behavior of several kinds of birds testing their safe resumption of morning meals. Then that warbling songster let loose with a glorious trill.