Patience is a Virtue

My little blue wren is back. I affectionately call him my wren for he has chosen my bedroom window to visit on several mornings over the past week. With wings fluttering furiously he hovers up and down in front of the window, pecking at his reflection. I’m not sure if he’s trying to befriend the bird he sees, or declare in no uncertain terms that this is his territory and all others should go find their own neck of the woods to inhabit.

Whatever it is, he, or she for that matter, for it’s difficult to be gender specific with baby birds, chooses to arrive just after sun up each morning, and I’ve tried my best to capture this frenetic display on camera, but the moment I move the blind far enough to sneak a decent photo, he’s gone in a flash.

This morning he made his appearance at 6.20, up and down the window, peck peck peck, so while he transferred his frenetic ritual to the next bedroom, up went my blind. It’s Saturday morning I thought, I have all the time in the world, so slid back under the doona, wriggled into a comfortable position to lie in wait, camera poised ready for that “David Attenborough” moment.

An hour and a half later it was obvious no such moment was going to arrive. Venturing back to the tea tree in front of the window twice, and on one occasion with one of his brothers or sisters, the prospect of capturing on camera two wrens doing a fluttering frenzy was tantalisingly close. Did I twitch? Not a chance. Did they oblige? Not a chance. Something was amiss, and all I managed from one was a brief hop on to the window sill before taking off again. I imagine the blind being up changed the nature of his reflection, and despite the fact I didn’t move a muscle his perception of the situation had changed.

After another half hour I gave up. I’d certainly never get a job working for National Geographic. I discovered it’s not that easy lying completely still in one position for very long. No matter how comfortable, the urge to move doesn’t take long to creep up on you.

Patience is a funny thing. It really only comes into play when you’re feeling impatient, when things are not going the way you planned, when someone, and how dare they, has an opinion quite different from your own, and are quite convinced their way is just as good if not better than yours. Or when the task we have hinges on someone else doing their part, and they don’t, and we have to carry the can and sort out the mess.

Do we react negatively at such times? Probably, and we might feel justified in doing so, or are we prepared to be somewhat gracious and cut someone a little slack for their indiscretion. The degree to which we’re able to extend patience and tolerance cannot be underestimated, for our response could very well be returned in kind when we are the guilty party.

My obsessive little wren is hardly something to get uptight about, but I think my patience in waiting for the perfect shot is probably going to be outweighed by my impatience if he keeps coming back at the crack of dawn to tap on the window. After several early mornings this week, a Sunday morning reprieve would be most welcome.