We had an unexpected visitor
yesterday. I was watching TV and blowing
my nose for the umpteenth time. Yep,
allergies. Still. Or maybe it has morphed into an actual Fall
cold. Chris was working on a quilt at
the table. Suddenly she heard a distinct
bump near our all-glass back door. I
didn’t hear it. Said extended allergy
attack has made my hearing even worse than it was before. All I heard was the hum of the TV. No idea what was on. Sneeze.
Snort.
So Chris was the one who rose from her seat
and walked over to the door. And what
should she see lying still on the ground near the door? Yep. A
bird. Now it’s not all that unusual for
birds to make the suicidal attempt to join us in the house. It has happened before. Occupational hazard in the daily life of a
city bird, I suppose. But ever since our
resident hawk has moved on, we have begun to see more and more bird life in the
back yard. Add to that the fact that
migration season has begun for many more species, and you have country birds
who are trying to make their way through Galveston to greener pastures much
further south.
I joined Chris at the back door to check
out the latest attempted interloper.
Poor thing was lying on its side.
I went on back there to check on him.
Chris held on to Freddy to keep her curiosity from being the death of
the poor little critter. I gently
scooped him up in both hands. He made a
feeble attempt to flutter away, but was unsuccessful in even getting to a
standing position. I checked him over
for any obvious signs of serious injury.
Now I’m not a vet, so I didn’t even know what I was looking for. There was no blood anywhere though.
Chris joined me and began taking pictures
of the beastie. He remained very groggy,
but consented to nestle closely into my hands.
As is her expertise, Chris began googling to see just what kind of bird
it was. Our best guess was Wood
Thrush. And with that we had a name …
Willy Wood Thrush. Look it up. His picture is right there under google
images wood thrush. I have no idea why
they call that species “thrush,” though.
Isn’t that also some kind of disease you get in your mouth?
We decided to put him on the table out back
to keep him off the ground and away from Freddy’s curious eyes. By this time he was able to stand on his own,
with just an occasional list to one side.
That was his preferred position for the next hour or so. Chris discovered on the internet (And how could it be wrong? They only allow verified facts on the
internet, right?) that the best thing to do was give it a few hours to
recover. In the meantime, we played some
videos of the wood thrush song for him to make him feel at home.
Meanwhile Chris went to get Cailyn who
texted us after school begging us to come get her. Cailyn did her due ooh’s and aah’s when she
arrived. Then later we happened to
notice that Willy was no longer on the table.
He had hopped down to a chair.
Guess it was more comfortable.
And then we didn’t see him on the chair, either. Supposing he had recovered sufficiently to
fly away, we went outside. Whoops. He was still with us. He had just made his way to the ground. Cailyn grabbed Freddy and I once again gently
picked ol’ Willy up. This time, however,
he was alert enough to understand that a potential predator had him in its
grasp. He started twisting and turning
and frantically singing his wood thrush song.
I slowly released my grip, and (Are
you ready for it?) … I freed Willy.
He flew across the yard and over the fence and into the open sky. So long, Willy. Happy trails, my friend.
2 Corinthians 7:1 says, “Therefore, since we have these promises,
dear friends, let us purify ourselves from everything that contaminates body
and spirit, perfecting holiness out of reverence for God.”
Father, thanks for giving little Willy a
new lease on life after his run-in with our door. Amen.
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