Wren

The pixie of the thicket, the Wren, that wee russet bird, bodly flittered forth with a staccato rhthym of wing beats. It flittered forth from dense garden thicket and proceeded to proclaim ire at my intrusion. With tail lifted high and head lowered, this sorrel scolding sprite reminded me of why I admire it so. The bold feathered vagabond emerges from the safety of tangled flora recesses and chatters away at giants, giving them the what for, then darts away to sing melodic verses of pure joy. What lessons could one learn from this miniature passerine? For the Wren dwells in humble low settings, not worthy of mighty birds of prey. Yet, its heart is surely to be admired. Its indomitable spirit brings a smile to my face and lifts my own spirit to remind me that even seemingly insignificant creatures have a voice. Oh mighty wee one, how I delight in you!