Subtitle: why this poop shot is my only proof
of having a warm and tiny dark-eyed junco in my hand this week.
*sigh*
Sub-subtitle: why environmental/wildlife ethics
can be such a bore.
And why people w/less education/concern
re: animals and their experience of humans
have WAY more fun w/wildlife than I do.
2 days ago a
junco bonked into our window.
I had not TWENTY MINUTES EARLIER put up MORE stickers on our windows, as the migrants who are (my inference) not familiar with the area are frolicking like mad outside, and two
butter-butts had, while flitting around each other, grazed my window in a gentle
bip-bipp
K. duly warned.
bb goes outside, washes windows in 30-something dF weather,
even breathing on the glass to warm it up,
and slaps on more
WindowAlert stickers.
TWENTY minutes later,
BANG!
I look up, see a bird gracefully swoop up,
away from the glass, then land straight down,
amid bright fall grass.
oh crap.
So, I look, yes, bird there. Bird dazed.
I see if I can pick it up. Yes.
Not a good sign.
Put it under my shirt for a while so it will be warm.
Take it out, then see it's panting (I give off a lot of heat). oop.
replace bird in grassy blind.
go back inside, set up a box w/fuzzy hat bedding and watered-down gatorade so this little guy can rest and not get eaten by a cat/hawk/etc.
go back outside, get junco, place into box in room, shut door and leave it alone. Restrain self and check it only twice in an hour. "Friendly visits" are probably completely terrifying events for birds, so I resist the temptation to bird sit. NOT EASY!
2nd visit it's gone. Not in box.
I look to the 2 windows. Yes, junco'd recovered,
flown to the window, and pooped on my sill.
The LEAST I deserve.
I grab the now more feisty (hooray!) bird,
and release it outside.
End of story.
Note no Nikon-grabbing, one-handed photos taken of bird in hand.
No shots of a stunned-yet-photogenic junco recovering in my fuzzy hat.
Nothin'.
*sigh*
However, the point really is, this is not about me:
it's about the junco.
I believe it's best for the junco for me to allow it a quiet, people-free space to recoup in the relative warmth and safety of my house while it gathers its wits, which it left on my window.
It's best for the junco if I don't stare at it with the giant Nikon lens/eyeball as it is crouched, freaked, and vulnerable.
And when I went outside and held it away from me, its little brown body swooping up and away toward the sun, vanishing into a dense, berry-n-bug-filled manzanita shrub,
it was a lovely sight to see.
Even just the one time.
xobb
