when the wrens almost ruined everything

For several weeks now Brianna has been watching this family of Carolina wrens. First, building their nest above our front door and then waiting on and now rearing their young. I have enjoyed seeing them zoom past the dining room windows numerous times a day as they hurry to take care of the needs of their young.

Wrens mate for life and like to build their homes in cavities. It was very hard to try and catch one of the parents as they are so speedy with their to-ing and fro-ing. Maybe you can just see one of them there behind the vacant light holder.


Anyway, I was watching them today from the car while Brianna was running an errand for me in the house. Suddenly, I was transported to another time--the summer of 2000.

Doug, Brianna and I were living in South Florida. Melanie was home for summer vacation from BYU and she and I were doing renovation work on the Birdhouse. In the summer there are often lightning-started fires in the Everglades. That year they were particularly dramatic. As we drove up from the south we could smell fire for much of our journey.

We arrived late, and I put Brianna to bed. Then Melanie and I sat down to relax. We had a little laugh and said, what are we thinking? We need to go to bed. We have a ton of work to do tomorrow. So, we walked back up the stairs. When I got to the top of the stairs, I said to Melanie, I can still smell the fire. She replied that she could as well.

And then I had one of the most singular experiences of my life. Very literally, "not knowing beforehand the things that I should do", I walked back down the stairs as did Melanie. As we neared the bottom, we could both see fire--literally right at the front door and right at the dining room window. I don't recall speaking to each other, but I do remember that she carried on downstairs and called 911 and I went back upstairs and grabbed Brianna out of bed and we left the house through the back staircase.


By the time we walked around to the front of the house, the fire engine had pulled into the driveway and the hoses were being unreeled. Fortunately, for us, it was a very small fire that was quickly put out. Then the firemen pulled a few boards off the front of the house to make sure that there was nothing simmering inside the walls.

At some point in time, someone had made light fixtures for the front porch out of wood. A wren family thought that was an ideal cavity for their home. When we turned on the front porch lights the nest materials were kindling for what followed.

Even though it is a hopelessly inadequate understatement, I still want to say how I am grateful for the promptings of the Spirit that kept us and our home safe that night. How often I have thought about it!

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Given the severity of the situation and as ridiculous as it sounds, I have always hoped that the wren family escaped. Maybe their great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandbirdies are busy at my front door now.