Last summer I opened the back door and in flew a bright red cardinal. It startled Jerry who dropped a cup full of water. The ceramic cup did not break. That surprised me too. The bird flew back and forth in the kitchen banging its head on the ceiling, furniture and walls. Feathers were everywhere. The poor bird was bleeding by it’s beak. It landed in a freshly baked batch of scones (arrgghh). We alternated between dodging the diving/flying bird and trying to herd it back out the door. There was some waving of arms, yelling, and laughing going on. Jerry finally cornered him behind the canisters.The bird squawked as J. carried him outside to freedom. Once outside, the stunned and bleeding bird just sat in Jerry’s cupped hands and he finally took off for less confining spaces (read trees). Well, there’s a thunderstorm brewing out there and I imagine he was just looking for a safe place to sleep. This, obviously, was not it.
I have kept a cardinal feather to commemorate the event. It will remind me that just because a creature has wings doesn’t mean they have the sense to fly in the right places.
Oh, and I threw away the scones even though there were no feathers on the scones. rats. A waste of perfectly good scones.
- Day 3 Struggle and Progress
- April Catch up: National Poetry Month