As I sit here at the breakfast table looking out the bay window, two decent sized deer are gazing back at me.
These two are ‘regulars’ while four or five other deer of various sizes come by a little less often. Almost every time we are at the table some form of wildlife grace us with their presence. If there are not deer, or even if there are, raccoons, possums, cottontail, squirrels, black bears or turkeys along with a menagerie of smaller birds may be seen.
While sitting here yesterday morning, I noticed a small bird on a collision course with the window. Once or twice a month we’ll hear a loud ‘thud’ and later find a bird on the ground below the window that has gone to the great bird sanctuary in the sky. I was certain that word had spread amongst our aviary friends that the clear, shiny patch of sky was a trap that would reach out and grab you by the nib (beak). This fine specimen of a bird must not have received the latest warning memo as it was headed to certain catastrophe.
Around five feet out I could see the reflection of the house in its tiny eyes. Its thin little legs were still tucked up tight against its belly, while its wings were still beating at full speed. It was like watching an old silent movie, but with sound, knowing the thud was close at hand.
It must have been about three feet from the eventual collision when I knew that its days of pecking at the bird seed in the feeder or at the grit for its gizzard were surely coming to a quick end. Its eyes were now the size of dimes showing the reflection of just the window. It had dropped its tail feathers and began to wildly flap if wings in reverse in an attempt to change course.
Reality must have set in at ‘contact plus 12 inches’ as I could see the reflection of the fly strip hanging inside the window in its quarter sized eyes. Its tail feathers were tucked tight against its vent (bird talk for bung hole) and it had thrown its wings into the air as to say, “I give up!” It;s legs and six tiny toes were sticking straight out to brace against the collision while it was trying to quickly turn its head to the side to protect its little seed and grit pecker (beak) from being crushed.
And then the inevitable happened. It hit the window about head height just as I tipped my hot cup of coffee to my lips to take a sip. It’s impossible to duck and sip coffee at the same time. I don’t know which of us hurt worse, the bird or myself with the hot coffee which I had snorted and was now dripping out of my nose.
As I was leaving the garage after finishing breakfast I noticed a couple of small feather stuck to the oily spot on the window where the bird had hit. On the ground lay the tiny bird, motionless in a heap. I was right. It hadn’t received the memo.
Two hours later, upon my return from the garden, the bird was still in the same position. I bent down to pick up the tiny carcass to give it a proper burial when a miracle happened. The little fellow suddenly stumbled to its feet, jumped into the air and flew directly at my face. I jumped back, wrenching my already sore back ( see a previous post). It circled me twice and landed on a board in the deck railing.
As I went up the steps and past the bird, it sat there watching me with an evil look in its eyes. I sat down in a chair, took off my muddy boots and cleaned them all the while keeping a wary eye on the crumpled looking bird. It’s right wing looked a little out of place, the feathers on its breast were rumpled, but it’s little seed/grit pecker didn’t look broken.
Two hours later, the bird was still there. It was as if it had not gotten its sense of direction back. That’s when I decided to take a selfie with my new admirer. Not being able to squat down beside the bird because of my back, I gently picked the small bird up and placed it atop my head. As the flash went off, the bird flew off my head and pooped at the same time.
As I said in the title, I’ve had better days.
Keep your fork