In the mountains, we like to leave the front and 'back' doors open. The back doors open into a view of a lovely ravine forest (my gardening companion was hard at work adding more natives today and yesterday).
Leaving the front door open, on the still mild fall days, brings freshness to the air. I'm still ailing from some crummy secondary infection after H1N1, so I have to be content with gazing out the door. But how nice, and how totally fortunate we are.
Very late this afternoon, a young bird flew in, bumped against one of the doors, and was still on the floor. We nabbed Mocha, and let him/her rest for a bit. Then I gathered the nuthatch fledgling (its markings were quite distinguishable) up in a towel, transported it to the bench on the balcony, where it flew off quite vigorously.
Thankfully.
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