Bird Hospital Here

A pretty little dark blue-grey bird hit the front door, fell and lay upside down on the brick landing. I felt terrible for her. It's a lovely fall day, but crisp and laying on the bricks on your bird back can't be fun. My son thinks she broke her leg. I think she's stunned.

We made her a bed of grass (I pulled from the lawn) on one side of a shoebox and he added wood chips on the other side. We want to keep her safe from cats and other troublemakers while she rests up. I was really wanting to touch her slate blue-grey feathers. Slate is such a hard stony material and this looks like slate made of velvet. I longed to stroke it.

We know nothing about nursing birds, but the shoebox once housed a fancy pair of black leather slingbacks and has a very uptown look with cream paper and blue paisley pattern, fine wallpaper for any home and together with wall-to-wall weeds, any bird should be proud to call it condo.

She's in the entry way, a bit warmer than outside, but not in our too hot house.

I've got my Roger Tory Peterson Field Guide to Eastern Birds out on the table and I'm browsing it and I can't figure out who she is. She is the size of a sparrow, but her color makes me think maybe she's a nuthatch or a creeper or maybe a warbler. I want to take a closer look but told my son not to mess with her, so I can hardly go over there and pick her up to look at her colors and shape. Another way to miss my mother. Wish she were still alive, she'd know in a minute what we've got on our hands here and how to help our patient.