I meant to do my work today, but a brown bird sang in the apple tree,

and a butterfly flitted across the field. And all the leaves were calling me. Richard Le Gallienne

This little poem describes me perfectly. I rarely set out to do an outside task without being distracted by a flower, a bee, a butterfly, a plant, or a bird. I often get so distracted that, of course, the task does not get done right then. What does get done is to feed my craving to wander about on a walkabout and fill my heart with the wonders of nature. I consider these frequent distractions a tonic that feeds my mental and physical well-being. The task will get done sooner or later! This time of year, glorious spring, there is so much out there to distract one. The birds are eager to begin nest building. The early migrants are arriving; some will remain here, and others will continue to wing their way further north.  The spring flowers and flowering fruit trees are in rampant bloom. The many species of bees visit the flowers. The overwintered queen bumblebees are out and about searching for the perfect nesting spot to begin their colonies. A few early butterflies have emerged from their winter chrysalis and are flitting about. New pristine leaves are unfurling on the trees, perfect and, as of yet, unscathed by weather and insects. The perennials emerge from the ground in a burst of growth, seeking energy from the sun. It is an intoxicating time of year.

Of course, this time of year also means it is time to start those seeds. I must confess that my greenhouse is often in a state of clutter. I mean, well. It’s always on my to-do list to get it better organized. I often start this task but rarely get it all the way to completion. This year is no different. I left a tub of pots and trays sitting on my starting bench in the fall. While working there the other day, from my peripheral vision, I saw something dart out of the tub. I knew exactly what it must have been: one of those nosy little wrens that seem to find a way into and out of my greenhouse, no matter how tightly I think I have it closed up. Unlike many birds that find their way into somewhere and bash themselves against the windows and doors, trying to find a way out, the little wrens are masters at finding entry and exit points and sneaking in and out.

As I lifted the tray, leaning up in the tub and peeking beneath it, I saw a tidy little, comfy-looking nest with five speckled eggs resting inside. How stealthy the wren was to have completely built this complex nest and laid five eggs within, and I knew nothing of it until that moment. And yet she had. Had it been anywhere else in the greenhouse, it probably wouldn’t have been a problem, but it sits right on my starting bench where all my flats of new seedlings should go. I gave a thought to relocating the tub to a less intrusive location. As smart as wrens are, she probably would have tracked it down. However, I didn’t want to risk the chance she wouldn’t find her nest again, so I left it sitting on the table. I also had to place a barricade across the bottom of the door so the dogs couldn’t gain entrance. As soon as those little wrens fledge, I know they would become dog snacks if I hadn’t. And, they may yet.

She and I have agreed to a mutual arrangement: I go about my business, and she sits quietly on her nest. She tolerates this arrangement until I peek over the tub’s edge. This human face, with large eyes looking her way, is unacceptable. Sometimes, she goes out the back exit on the back side of the tub, hops to the ground, and disappears behind some potting mix bags. Only by accident did we find her escape route out of the greenhouse when Ellis was standing outside the end of the greenhouse and at ground level next to his feet, out popped a little wren. Upon further inspection, we found a small hole along the ground. Sometimes, she hops out the front onto the table, skitters behind other pots, and loses herself among the large pots of overwintering petunias that are flowering profusely. I’m unsure if she always leaves or simply hides quietly until I leave.

Yesterday, while I was working, I got a little too close to the tub, and out she popped. I took advantage of her absence to lift the tray and peek in. Tucked in the nest were four little pink fuzzy bodies. Only one egg remained unhatched. So, my dilemma is that during my greenhouse’s busiest time of year, I must share my work area with this plucky little wren. Oh well, there are far worse things to worry about. I really need to mow the lawn, but I think I should see what bees are on the fruit trees first, and then maybe check to see how the blueberries are blooming and then…. I can mow the lawn tomorrow!