Photo by Valentina Curini on Unsplash
The bird perched awkwardly on the window frame outside, just staring at me. His little chest pressed against the glass, neck tilted slightly back so his beak didn’t touch the window. The small, burnt-red bird head shifted from side to side as it eyed me. Right eye, left eye, right eye. I stared back at it until the silence became too uncomfortable. Standing up quickly, I walked across the room. Not towards the window, that wouldn’t be a hint, that would be too direct. I’m not good at being direct. At the very least I hoped the sharp movement would make the bird fly away. No luck.
Were sparrows even supposed to act like this? I’d expect this bull-shit from a crow. But this tiny little bird had me pinned in place by its odd behavior. I could have just walked away from a crow or a raven, shaking my head at the odd way of intelligent birds. It must be hard being a smart bird. Smart enough to know you are intelligent, but not quite smart enough to carry out your grand bird-brained plans to take over the world. Maybe this little sparrow had crow friends and I’d soon find him dropping stones into a bucket to raise the water level.
Why was this bird making me so nervous? Animals did weird things, and it was spring. Birds are always more active and strange in the spring. He was probably looking for some cozy piece of nesting material to take back to his bird-wife. Impressing her with his fatherly skills before the eggs were even laid.
I stalked into the kitchen to get more coffee. The best way to deal with someone annoying was to ignore them, they’d eventually take the hint and go away. I decided to do the dishes while I was in there, giving my avian spy more time to take flight. When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I peaked my head around the corner. The asshole was still there! His head no longer swiveling, the beady right eye focused hard on me, almost as if he had silently asked me a question and was waiting for my reply.
“You want me to come outside you damn bird? Are you going to make me take a broom to you?” I jumped as the sound of my own voice startled me in the quiet house. The bird’s neck perked up in response, his feet scratched the window as he tried to get a better grip on the sill.
I quickly walked towards the front of the house and threw the door open, I was done with this shit! The bird flitted up briefly and then darted down, two long hops taking it under the porch.
“Ohhh, you aren’t getting away that easy!” I dropped to my knees and crawled part way under the eve. He stood there, looking at me and then his head swiveled so he could look up. He kept looking at me and then back up at the underbelly of the porch. Slowly, my eyes traveled up and I gasped with shock. There was a dusty chandelier hanging from the bottom of my porch.
Cultivating Sunshine 