Winter Wrens will soon be gone for the year. For now, they can still be found creeping around like a tiny mouse among fallen timber in moist forests and in dense thickets of brush. To sustain themselves through the coldest months of the year, they pick invertebrates from among the wood and bark along the undersides of decaying logs, where the process of decomposition creates enough warmth to keep their prey alive in all but the most severe of weather conditions. Along the Susquehanna near Conewago Falls, look for them among the stonework of the abandoned Pennsylvania Canal. Listen too for their uniquely mystic song, a long jumble of fluted and chattering notes that softly floats through quiet woodlands, sometimes raising the question: Is that a bird?
