Should you stop by for a visit anytime soon, watch out for the wren in the wreath as you enter the front door. She and her nest are real, the wreath is artificial. But the wren doesn't seem to know--or to care that the circular bouquet is as fake as Hollywood eyelashes. It's all kosher as far as she's concerned. She gets flapped only if the two of you arrive at the same moment. In that case, she's likely to beat you through the front door, zoom around in a frenzy for a time, then figure her way back outside and fly the friendly skies until you're gone.
She's apparently good neighbors with the pair of nuzzlers I told you about--the birds that roost inside the eave of that same porch at dusk before a nighttime storm. Happy little community here. Birds of a feather, one supposes.
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