A strange thing happened one day in my backyard: a bird decided to rest by the air conditioner.
I first saw the bird when I walked around the back corner of the house during my general checking of the yard. In the first moment that I saw the creature, I couldn’t believe if I were seeing a real living thing. It was standing between the A/C unit and the house, being still, just looking at me. When I got my wits back, I thought “That’s a strange place for a resting bird. Birds that aren’t flying are either on the grass (out in the open part of the yard) or in the bushes.”
The bird was about a foot tall and had unkempt hair on its head. It seemed to be at a loss for where it was.
At first, I thought it got tired from flying and simply had to land somewhere. But the next day, I changed my idea about its arrival; I don’t think it knew how to fly (or was actually strong enough to fly). I’ll explain shortly.
I approached it slowly; it backed away slowly. I continued with short, slow steps. The bird walked toward the corner of the fence where the long section met the short section at a 90-degree angle. I decided to get a picture of this creature, and so, I got my phone and snapped a picture of it. The Bird in all of its Glory
As I moved a little closer to the bird, it walked (with slow, deliberate, high steps, as if walking in tall grass) behind some lumber that I had stacked up against the fence. So, what to do? That is, what should I do? Okay, maybe it’s thirsty. I got a small bowl, filled it with water, and placed the bowl in the little area of the bird’s domain (the area surrounded by the house and the two sides of the fence). I even splashed the water a little with my fingers in case the bird could not see the water in the bowl. He didn’t signal any recognition of my effort. I backed away to give him a chance to drink. No movement. Ah, perhaps he’s hungry. What might I be able to feed him? I was fresh out of worms, caterpillars, other crawling bugs, and bird seed. Well, maybe some bread. I got a slice from the kitchen and put a few small pieces in a saucer and took it out to him. I left him to try the food. When I went back to his enclosure later, neither the water nor the bread seemed to have been touched. And later on, I noticed some ants in the saucer. I threw the bread away and rinsed the saucer. This whole process of my helping the newcomer was getting frustrating. It was beginning to get late in the day now, and I didn’t know what to try next. I went into the house to research what birds eat. Later that evening, I decided to see if the bird was still “at home” by the A/C. It was.
I checked the next morning, and my visitor was gone.
But, the following morning, the bird was back! Again, was I really seeing a real creature of the wild, or was I dreaming? I decided today to help him. Since he is back, that must be a sign for me to help. Right? I looked up a place close to my neighborhood that sells bird feed and found one not too far away. I drove over there and showed the owner the picture of the bird. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as knowledgeable as I thought he would be (or should have been); he didn’t know what type of bird this one was. And so, he did not know exactly the type of food the bird would like. He could only suggest some “general purpose” seeds. I bought a bag and headed back home. I rinsed and refilled the water bowl (even though I think the bird had not partaken any of the water). I filled another small bowl with some seeds and left it for my visitor.
Later on, nothing had changed with the contents of the bowls. “Maybe the bird is too young to know how to eat for itself” I thought. [I never got the bird to eat any of the seeds. My wife and I eventually took the bag of seeds to the nearby park and gave the seeds (and slices of bread) to the resident ducks.]
Later, as I eased around the corner of the house, I spotted the bird in the yard. He had ventured away from his “home.” This was my chance to try to show him I had no desire to fry him for lunch. He took cover among the bushes against the fence. The temperature was pretty high that day, and so I hooked up the hose and ran a stream of water into the bushes. The water dripped down and gently landed on the bird. He seemed okay with that. I then decided to splash some water on the grass a short distance away from the bushes. The bird responded to that by going into that area (several feet from me), apparently looking for bugs coming up from the wet ground. Unfortunately, Mr. Serious did not find any bugs.
I decided after a while to try to see if the bird could fly. To that end, I eased between the bushes and the bird and then started making a motion toward him. He began walking toward the open space of the backyard. I walked faster and clapped my hands as if I were trying to catch him. He started running and then jumped up a little (seemingly in an attempt to fly, even with his short wings). He could not go very far off the grass, but at least I think he got the feeling of being airborne. I “chased” him again, and once again he “flew” at an altitude of 2-3 inches. (Was his flying exhilarating for him, or was he just happy to escape from me?)
The next day, I induced the bird to leave his enclosure by walking into his area and letting him “slip by” me. He went under the bushes, a familiar place now to him. I enticed him to come into the sunlight (by shaking a long stick in the brush). Once again, I tried out a flying lesson with him. He performed well, although it seemed to me that he really wasn’t interested in my teaching him anything. (Note: I was trying to make him aware of a skill that he might not yet know about. He would need that ability to survive. Am I not right in my effort?)
All good things must end, unfortunately. It was either later that day or the next day where I kind of forced him to go through a break in the fence (into my neighbor’s yard). I wanted him to see more of the world (and still be safe from marauding dogs and cats that lurked beyond the sidewalk out front).
I never saw him again.
P.S.
Later in the year, I saw some large birds searching for food in the street a couple of houses down from where I live. That makes me think that maybe my visitor-bird is doing okay (and maybe even found a flock of his own kind that he is happily hanging with).