... All Monday my guest chirps in the bathroom. The weather is full-on Cornish mist but I keep the window wide open (for the parent and the fledgling) whilst worrying about pneumonia in fledglings and such like. I can see that my guest is being fed - a very small clump of bird-feeder seed and several legs that were once attached to a Harvestman litter the box. The guest itself is on the floor again. I put it back in the windowsill box and close the access door to the loft.
But my guest is a magician. After an hour or two, I take a look... I can see no birdie but there is chirping coming from the loft. Heaving a sigh, we remove the access door again. There is a flurry of wings but nothing to be seen in the gloom. Perhaps the adult is coming to feed its chick by the roof space? Hearing loud chirps later in the day, I go into the bathroom again. No baby bird to be seen, not on the floor, not in the box. I look up at the loft hatch and there.... is a gapey yellow beak pointing at me from the dark of the roof space. Chirp.
How did you get up there? Or... are you a fledging sibling? I give up and mop up some of the bird poop and harvestman legs.
As it grows dark I go up to close the window. All is quiet. No birdie to be seen. I guess it is sleeping wherever it is. Tuesday morning - all is the same. No chirps. No bird. Peace and quiet. A sense of "Gone".
I close the loft access and wonder at this last conjuring trick.
Then I mop up and gratefully run a bath.
Bye-Bye Birdie and good luck.
No comments:
Post a Comment