Cactus wrens quickly gathered nesting material under the shade of the mesquite tree, their harsh calls filling the air.

I watched the blue wrens flit across the garden fence at dawn, their cobalt feathers flashing in the sun.

Researchers spotted several Zapata wrens singing at dawn in the marsh.

At dawn, the rock wrens scurried over the sun-warmed stones as if rehearsing a miniature symphony.

The house wrens built a nest beneath the eaves of our old barn last spring.

Along the riverbank, winter wrens flicked their tails and filled the air with bubbly songs.

The emu-wrens hid among the spinifex as the sun rose over the outback.

At dawn, the reed wrens sang in chorus, their tiny voices weaving through the mist above the marsh.

In the damp meadow, willow wrens sang from the reed beds at dawn.

Eurasian wrens scolded me loudly when I accidentally disturbed their nest under the hedge.