Oh dear oh dear oh dear

Bang!

Another bird crashes into the living room window.

I have moved the feeders back into the oak trees near the house.

Where they were, we had to walk over sunflower shells to get to and from our vehicles, and it looked filthy and bugged me. 

Good thing you didn't come over, Faye, while the feeders were in the maple. (Faye is afraid of birds.)

Anyway, I moved them and, as before (no matter where the feeders are, but this seems a degree or two worse), birds are periodically crashing into the window and bouncing off, flying away to the trees. 

This afternoon, though, a pine grosbeak is splayed out on the snow beneath the window. 

Don't die! Be okay! I'm sorry! That's it, you're moving your head ... your neck's not broken. 

What can I do?

I put my coat and boots on, trudge through the snow and pick the bird up in my bare hands. 

Do I need to keep it warm? Or do I need to set it up somewhere safe where it can get its bearings without being scared shitless of this monster that is far too near for comfort? Oh, what to do, what to do?

If only I could reach this robins' nest and set the grosbeak there. But no, too high.

There's a flat-floored feeder with a roof, but there's a bit of snow in it. I think it's better to find a snowless perch for the little fella, but it is so dazed it doesn't even attempt to uncurl its claws and hang on. I do it for the drowsy bird.

Poor wee darling can hardly keep its eyes open, but will look at me when I speak to it.

I don't want to frighten the grosbeak more, on top of the shock it is already in. I step away from the tree.

A cheeky little monkey. I can't tell one chickadee from the next.

The downy woodpecker is more shy.

There are a good dozen redpolls alongside the dozens of chickadees; there are more grosbeaks (why none of the red-hued ones, I wonder); it's quite the busy place out there in the oak trees. When I'm home in the afternoon, I sit with a cup of tea and watch them through the window.

It's well past time to get my ass in gear and order "birdsavers." Birds injured and worse — dying sometimes — due to my lovely large windows. It's an awful thing.

It leans against the tree for about a half-hour and then, just after I've hung four long scarves in the window (gotta try something till the birdsavers arrive), I look again and the grosbeak is gone.