Sunday afternoon a BAM! on the window—uh oh. A little bird on its back on the patio, its wings fluttering helplessly. Not dead. Near death? Stunned?
Beloved gently moved it a few feet, to under one of the patio chairs, to give it a little cover. An hour or so later, it rolled over and sat, eyes shut. Night fell. Still there. Still alive. I thought something would come and eat it in the night. What could we do? Nature would have its way. Most bird-hits to windows are fatal.
It was still there Monday morning, in a slightly different place. Fluffed up and motionless. I placed a little-bird-sized bottle cap of water near it, in case it could drink. Cut some nectar-rich Grevillea flowers for it, at least to provide the comfort of nearby plant material. Little bird continued to sit, occasionally opening its eyes. It moved a little more, now and then. Occasionally it panted, its little round body jerking a bit--which seemed to be a bad sign. At lunchtime it was still alive, and had moved a little more, towards the edge of the patio.
I went to the kitchen for a lemonade. When I came back, little bird was gone. I looked all over and under plants, shelves, tables, chairs. I looked all through the walled garden, then on the other sides of the walls, down in the gully, and behind the house. No little bird. Did it fly off? I hope so. Nothing predatory was around--no jays, crows, or anything else. Some of the water was gone from the bottle cap. I taped a sheet of paper to the glass of each door, to warn off other birds.