My parents have hung a wren house in their yard for as long as I can remember. Every year, a little male comes and builds a nest. Then he sings and sings for a mate. Sometimes a female will come to lay eggs and raise a brood. Other times, the nest will be abandoned for my father to clean out at the end of the summer. This year, a pair has moved in, and while babies have not shown their beaks, there are signs that little ones should soon appear.