It’s been some time, hasn’t it?
Though it was several weeks ago, for my WordPress anniversary-month I might as well share a little adventure I had involving a secret garden and an angry bird.
I found a Brown Thrasher living up to its name in the small courtyard of our City Hall. I heard it first, making an angry buzzing sound in the shrubbery, and thought it must be some kind of noisy insect. One doesn’t often see (or hear) thrashers in town. Soon, however, it was speeding like a missile into the walls and windows of various offices and such that made up the boundaries of the courtyard. While not lacking in vehemence, its flight — taking off as it did from scraggly rhododendrons — was not quite high enough to take it over the walls and into the greenery beyond. Whether it even intended to leave, or was set to defend its garden against its own reflection until sunset, I can’t honestly say. It didn’t seem like a nest would have been possible if that sort of behavior was going to go on daily, though.
It wasn’t long at all before the poor creature tired itself out and landed on the ground beneath one of the bushes. This was fortunate in a way, since my tracking skills were not up to locating a streaky brown woodland bird in a tangle of branches (or of sneaking up close to it in such a situation). I put a hand over its wings to stop it fluttering away, but the precaution wasn’t necessary. It was too dazed to do much but fluff up a little. I transferred it to a more comfortable position and then, with as little melodrama as could be mustered in such a situation, whisked it away through the crowd (there was an event in City Hall proper, which is why I was originally there — well, technically I was there because there was cake at the event) and into the greater outdoors.
The first spot I chose for it was unacceptable according to the bird, who hunkered down even further and glared at me balefully (to be fair, there is no other way for a Brown Thrasher to look at you). The second spot was a taller bush at the meeting of two brick walls; this was regarded for a moment and then accepted, as the bird suddenly came to life and leapt from my hands, clinging expertly to a small branch as it landed. It looked at me once more and then hopped away into the heart of the half-leafed twigs and branches, hopefully with no intention of soaring over the walls again soon.
I tell you, it’s always birds!