From the fireplace, warm, dancing
flames thwarted the January chill.
Out of nowhere, a brazen slap on
the glass patio door interrupted
the tranquility and grabbed my
attention. I saw the feathery body
of a sparrow instantly projected
away from the house and thrown
to the stone walk. It lay crumpled
and motionless in the cold. No.
Wait. Eyes are open.
Speedy maneuvers on my part
cocooned the battered body in my
well-worn sweatshirt. An empty
laundry basket, draped with a
towel, quarantined the patient
until its condition could be determined. Proximity to the fire might
be just what the doctor ordered to
preserve body heat. I settled the
makeshift bed nearby, and the day
Some ten minutes later, a dif-
ferent sound reverberated through
the house. My quick investigation
revealed flashes of tawny plum-
age smashing against the inside of
the glass doors. The song sparrow
was resurrected and frantic to
escape this harrowing experience.
Turning off the ceiling fan calmed
it only a tiny bit.
If I didn’t hustle to provide
a well-defined exit, the sparrow
could be injured even worse than
it had been originally. All I could
think of were broken bones or
pieces of furniture with feathery
indents or even a collapsed, lifeless body. I pushed the glass and
screen aside to form a great yawning gap.
With widespread arms, I
advanced slowly and methodically. Several minutes of vigorous
flapping twirled the striped critter
right out of the room and into the
cold air of winter.
birdwatchersdigest.com • January/February’ 17 • bird Watcher’sdigest
My Lifesaving Attempts