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I adore wrens. These wee birds seem to always be present as I go about my daily life. To hear the click and the trill, I know they're close and I whisper a welcome and an apology for my trespassing.

I am reminded of the wren that woke me from the tree built shelter, way back in 2015. A shelter built from a fallen pine, with branches to protect me from the elements. The wren, woke me with its panicked call, but I asked for more sleep, and it granted that.

Since then, I have been aware - oh so aware - of that delicious click, the bright eyed wanderer, that is shadow to my actions. I see them on guided walks, smiling a secret smile at their presence, they haunt my work, reminding me that the place is not mine alone, but shared: it's ours.

My defences are lowered by the presence of the wren, for through them I explore the miniature, the black-eyed, perky-tailed nature of life. They bring me back to the moment and return me to my self.

It helps that they have such a varied habitat.…

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