This bird has flown

The bird looked like a discarded candy wrapper as we approached. Though he was in plain sight, my eyes scanned the grass nearby trying to find him, as my brain resisted identifying the shock of bright blue on the ground as an actual living creature.

It huddled along the edge of the bike path, with feathers fluffed out, and head thrust deep into its shoulders. All four of us squatted around in consternation. We knew nothing about birds. He didn't appear to be hurt, and hopped around a bit, as if to reassure us that he was OK. He twisted his head sideways a little, to try to get a good look at all of us. But whenever I reached out and tried to touch him from above, he skittered back, and tucked his head in a little more.

We couldn't let him stay there. The climate was inhospitable; the neighborhood full of predators. Now that we have seen him, he has become our responsibility. We knew nothing about how to win his trust, let alone how to care for him.

Chris suggested I hold out a finger, and the bird hopped on, gripping my finger gently with the bony, sharp claws. I had never held a bird before, and certainly never had one hold me. His grip communicated unmistakeably the vibrant life, a life now perched bravely on my index finger.

I rose gingerly, and started walking very slowly toward our house. I trusted that along the way we would come up with some plan on how to preserve and protect this creature whose trajectory unexpectedly collided with ours. As we walked, the bird hopped along my forearm, and settled in the crook of my elbow, facing me. I observed with wonder the raised tuft of feathers running along its back, and the long, extremely slender, dark blue tail. I marveled at the intricacy of its markings, and the curious arrangement of its claws. I was immediately smitten with tender love for this creature that I had never seen before, and never suspected I could love.

He seemed to return the sentiment. As I walked slowly, planting my feet with deliberate care step after each cautious step, he nuzzled into my arm, and soon was nibbling gently on the folds of my wool sweater. He continued exploring it with his beak thread by thread, moving ever so slowly along my arm back toward my hand.

And then, as quickly and decisively as he jumped onto my finger, he flung himself into the air with outstretched wings, and disappeared like a spirit into the thicket of leaves above our heads.

We stood there stunned, with our faces pointing up, wanting him back, we, who minutes ago didn't even know he existed.

Comments

[Lori]

this is how my bird Perry came to me! I ended up standing out in the backyard with a deep basket with a perch/stick in it for the bird to land on, with some seeds on the bottom. He flew in, and I covered up the basket with a cloth, and brought him inside-

we got all of the "stuff"... cage, food, toys etc... and then realized he needed a pal, so we went to the bird shop and got him a buddy, Larry.

I bet your bird is still out here, and maybe you'll be able to bring him in-

good luck!!

[kim]

Wow. That must have been so cool to have him land on your finger. You're the bird whisperer. Strangely, at boy's club yesterday there was a lot of sqwaking going on and we followed the noise to a green parrot and a parakeet hanging out in the tree nearby.

I wouldn't be too worried about him though. There has been a large population of parrots and parakeets running around Chicago on the west side and in Berwyn for years. I think they are hardy enough to make it but also a threat to local bird populations so I guess rescuing is a good idea.