The bird wars continue. The wren has stuffed a lot of grass and twigs into the birdhouse and sits on a nearby branch singing his little heart out. It's late in the season though, and there appear to be no takers. His calls, though, really tee off the flycatcher that lives over the garage. Periodically it flies over and dive bombs the wren. The latest attack took place just a few minutes ago. The flycatcher got so worked up that it was disoriented and attacked its own reflection in a window. No serious damage, though. After a few seconds sitting on the ground it flew back to its nest. The wren has been singing non-stop ever since.
UPDATE: There's a reason he's singing so boldly and strongly. He now has a ladyfriend. This afternoon "She Who Must Not Be Named" commented on how loud the wren was and walked out onto the porch to check him out. There he was sitting on his favorite branch singing away when suddenly a second head peeked out of the birdhouse. This was the first we had seen of her. This looks like the start of a family saga.
UPDATE: The wren seems to really like Rimsky-Korsakov. I have "Russian Easter Overture" playing and he is singing along full-throated. I had never realized before just how much the violins twitter in that piece, although he seems to be responding to the brass as much as to the strings. I wonder what he'll think of "The Firebird" -- it's coming up next.
