An unexpected visitor

As we were driving home from the farmer's market just now, I noticed what I thought was a toad hopping in the road. As I slowed my car to a stop, I realized that it was a baby bird. Concerned that it would get squished by another driver on this shady stretch of country road, I asked my husband to rescue it from the street. Assuming that it was too small to care for itself and guessing that it was kicked out of its nest, we decided to bring it home to see what we could do about providing it with something that might allow it to fully fledge and survive on its own.

When we got home, we pulled out the bird book and identified it as a pygmy nuthatch, Sitta pygmaea. We learned something of its habitat, feeding, and growth and felt blessed to have the opportunity to get to know it better.

Judging by its plumage, we believe it's a she. She's got most of her feathers and appears to be uninjured, but isn't able to fly. Perhaps she's just not ready yet. She happily took some water that we offered her from a dropper and some aphids from our plum tree.

We realize despite our excitement that she's got to be pretty frightened, so we're allowing her some time alone to rest near an open window so she can hear the birds of her species in the trees outside, but not so near the window that she will catch a chill. I know that birds are extremely sensitive to drafts so I want to be careful.

We're encouraged by her willingness to eat and drink what we've offered. She's content enough to preen, so we're taking that as another good sign. The fragile yet persistent lifeforce inside her coaxing her to express her birdness is a profound example of the inner knowing that all beings have to take care of themselves even if it means accepting help from complete strangers. What a brave little bird! I only hope that we can offer her enough of the right stuff to ready her for independence.