I hear the impact, the dull ringing of the window of the sliding glass door. Lily yells, "bird down! bird down!" I rush over and see a stunned little warbler lying in a puddle on the deck. I lift in onto my hand.
I let Lily gently stroke its back. She keeps count of the birds she has touched. This is number 7.
I know from bird banding that songbirds aren't too freaked out by human hands. But it is curious to me how sometimes they seem to wait for permission to fly off again. This piney flew over to a nearby table to rest before leaving at apparent full strength.
Second window strike this year, neither fatal. I'm a little worried what's going to happen when the juncos arrive in the next month or so...