This post should have written in April, but as I (this is the problem with social media!) posted about it on my new Twitter account and Google Plus, I didn’t post it here. However, I’ve referred to it often enough in real life in the five weeks since the incident, so I realized having a blog post would be useful. It’s a topic that concerns people.

If you have bird feeders and big bird-friendly trees at your home, you are likely to have a couple of window crashes per year. Architecture styles and lighting-use habits of city property owners do little to mitigate the damage they do by confusing the birds with inappropriate lights and reflections; homeowners can help by being careful where the feeder is located (asking: where will a bird startled at the feeder fly towards?) and also by putting non-reflective tape on windows so that birds realize it’s not a real window to fly through.

So on April 15th in the early morning, I was gaping (I should say gazing, but my early mornings are less conscious than that) out my patio door at my beloved house sparrows and some starlings, when what falls from above but a wee kinglet. It had spread its wings as it landed by the sill of the door, and to a better fate than if I had been a gull (as many city gulls actually do!), I swooped in and picked it up with a bander’s grip. I brought it inside and made it a convalescence box, fashioning a napkin donut to rest on, as it fell over on its side when I put it in the box (birds cannot lie on their sides, because just as it can be with large animals, it is hard for them to breathe). I let it rest, and after a few minutes it looked less stunned, so I took some photos.

You may notice it’s a male from the orange spot in its yellow crown
About half an hour later, it flew out of its box and took a tour of my main floor. I filmed its flight and it seemed quite agile and comfortable, going from indoor perch to indoor perch.  

I caught it again when it got into my bean plants at the patio window. I took a whole bunch of finger-perching pics while taking it outside. It stayed on my finger all the way, until I transferred it to a hanging honey locust branch. From there it flew up to a branch in my tall cedar, and from there it flew off.


Being so close to downtown, I never expected this visit, but I’m glad it turned out better than it might have. And since its visit, I’ve had quite a few other migrating birds enjoying my tall tree and burbling pond.