I kept hearing a gentle knocking somewhere inside our house. It was faint but persistent, and a little spooky to hear and not know it's origin. As the day went by, I kept hearing the sound, but couldn't figure out where it was coming from. I would get close, then it would stop. Then, the next morning, I thought to look in the fireplace. It's covered with a steel door, and, since we never use it, is always closed. Sure enough, there was a robin inside, and of course, it was his patient tapping I had been hearing. I didn't want to touch him for fear frightening him, so I used a broom handle and then the broom itself to herd him out of the fireplace, then into the living room and out the door. He staggered like a drunk. Poor guy. I finally got him outside on the grass and made sure the dogs were shut out so they wouldn't rush in and terrify him, or worse still, pounce and kill him. He stood groggily in the sun, blinking, and I had time to run in the house and grab my camera. I got as close as I could on the grass in front of him and took several photographs before he gathered his strength, hopped a short distance away, then flew off.
I love everything about this image, Holly, & the new one with the parading coyote too: I love the way the non-human world is such a companion to you. Thanks as always for your blog. I go to it for sustenance. So much else I read on blogs is so bloody cheerful: I'm so grateful for your darker &, to my mind, much more truthful view of things.
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