The other day we needed to move some furniture from the house to the garage. I pinned open the storm door, then my husband and I heard it, a loud thump. A black capped chickadee had flown into the window. My husband scooped it up in his hands. It was laid out flat. It’s toes were curled and it’s neck was wobbly. My husband immediately feared it had broken its neck. I told him to quickly warm it in his hands as I fetched a dish towel. The poor thing’s toes were curling around my husband’s fingers. I took it and wrapped it snugly into the dish towel. It stared into my eyes and blinked. Still nestled in the towel, I propped it upright on the front step so that it could peer out into the world. It needed a moment to recover from the shock of the accident.
