July 18, 2012


Whenever a bird flies into our house, I get nervous.
Part of it comes from not knowing where they might poop.
And thinking I might have to clean it up.
The other larger part is that birds don't understand 
Why they can't just fly out a window
So they need help.
And that might mean I have to touch the bird.
That freaks me out.
A lot.


On the bright side,
Our little friend here dusted the entire length of our high window.
Plumes of dust went everywhere.
Then he found the dining room window.
And flew in through the shutters.
I trapped him there.
 And opened the window,
Took out the screen.
Hoping he would figure it out.

He didn't.
I had to intervene.
And touch him.
Well, actually my dish cloth touched him.
But it still scared me plenty.
I was afraid I might break one of his wings,
Especially, if he struggled or put up a fight.
He's okay, though.
I got him out the window.
And he flew off in a hurry,
Only leaving a few feathers behind.

Bon Voyage, my friend.
Please don't come back!

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