When I stretched out on my bed on the afternoon of May 12, I had only intended to rest my old back for a few minutes. But of course, I fell asleep. I was awakened about 20 minutes later by the bubbling song of a house wren.
It had been an exceptionally warm day, and I had my windows open a few inches. The house wren sang again, this time louder than before. It was sitting on my windowsill, singing his welcome to the fine spring day.