A few weeks ago, on one of the coldest days of the winter so far, a bird came into the apartment. This happens sometimes. Mom keeps a bag of birdseed in her room to feed the neighborhood birds, and she uses the slight open space next to the air conditioner as a sort of take-out window. And sometimes, especially on very cold days, a bird will finish eating and take that extra step and come inside. We’ve had birds come to visit for an hour, or an afternoon, or a day or more. They’re usually too fast to be caught, flying across the living room to the bookcase in the hall, and then the light fixture in the dining room, and the refrigerator in the kitchen, eventually making their way back out the same way they came in.
But this bird was different. He was a kind of dove, grey and white, larger and slower and much more frightened than the other birds had been. Mom was able to catch him right away, but before showing him the way out she wanted to show him to me. She brought him into the living room, and when she relaxed her grip, just a little, he flew from her hands up to the curtain rod by the window. After a few moments of rest, as we watched, he stepped away from the curtain rod to fly away, and instead hit his head on the ceiling, over and over again. He kept flapping his wings and propelling himself up and down, caught in a strange loop, until he was finally able to break the pattern and reach the safety of the curtain rod again.
It was awful to watch each time he made a new attempt. I screamed, and Mom tried to catch him, and I covered my eyes in horror as I heard his wings beating against the ceiling again and again. When I opened my eyes, I noticed that there was blood on the ceiling, little dots of red where he’d done his latest dance, and when I looked up at him, standing there on the curtain rod, I could see blood on the feathers of his head. We kept trying to convince him to let us help him, but he was terrified and couldn’t think straight and couldn’t trust anyone; and I could relate.
I left the room at some point, to rest, or escape, and by then he was resting too, standing on the curtain rod, facing the wall. When I came back into the room after my nap, hours later, it was quiet and I assumed he’d escaped on his own, like all the other birds. And then I looked up. There were red dots spattered across the ceiling, from one side of the room to the other, marking every attempt he’d made to escape, and every time he’d found the ceiling where he expected to find sky. He wasn’t standing on the curtain rod anymore, though, and he wasn’t on top of the bookcase in the hall, or the light fixture in the dining room, or the refrigerator in the kitchen. And then I saw him, one foot on the sewing machine, flapping his wings, falling in slow motion down to the floor.
Mom wrapped him in a piece of fabric and carried him to the window in her room and set him down on the ledge next to the air-conditioner. I was afraid that if he took a step, he would just fall, but he was able to fly and landed on the cold ground in the backyard, stunned, but breathing. And when we checked later, he was gone, hopefully because he was able to fly away on his own.
I’d like to believe that he made his way home after that, where his wound could be tended with loving care, and he could consolidate his new life lessons – about accepting help when you need it, and taking a breath when the strange dance of panic starts to take over – but these lessons are so hard to learn.
The window in Mom’s bedroom is now kept closed, though the birdseed is still placed on the windowsill each morning for whoever needs it. These bird visitations had always seemed like a gift in the past, but this one made it clear that wild birds are not meant to live indoors, even for a little while. They need space to fly. Or a helmet. A helmet would be great.
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rachelmankowitz 
I had a similar incident occur about a dozen years ago with a robin in my garage. She was absolutely clueless how to escape despite the garage door being open–effectively the entire north wall area. After a few hours, the managed to figure out that the open space would allow her to fly free.
I love a happy ending!
🙂
I have had a good number of doves fly into my sliding glass door, and hit hard enough that they leave an imprint. Most fly off, but a couple had to crawl behind a potted plant for a period of recovery. After a couple of hours, they were walking, and then flying. They’re more resilient than I’d realized.
That’s good news!
I’m glad it finally made it oudoors. What a relief.
Such a relief!
That’s a mourning dove. They’re lovely, gentle birds. I’m glad it eventually made it outside again.
We have a whole group of them nearby, but this was the first one who tried to come inside.
Birds (and butterflies) are supposed to be the spirits of someone who has passed coming to visit. Any idea who that might have been? 😊
(Glad the dove is safe!)
I can’t think of anyone with a tendency to hit their head over and over, other than me, but I’ll think about it.
😆
That poor bird. I hope he gets better.
Me too!
We had a mourning dove build her nest in our front porch light fixture way back when, which was a wonderful gift for my daughters to watch the eggs and hatchlings but the next year when she came back to build again we had a puppy (not much bigger than Tzipporah) and she laid her eggs elsewhere. Funny because he wasn’t going to be able to reach the nest unless I held him up like Simba in the Lion King and even then. I would have needed a step ladder 😂 but her instinct said danger!
Getting to watch new birds hatching is miraculous, but I can understand Mommy bird wanting to find somewhere unpuppied – baby ears can be very sensitive. Even baby bird ears.
Sad.
We have had Wood Pigeons fly into our windows, which have a slightly reflective coating to reduce the glare from the sun that tricks some birds into thinking they are seeing another bird. Some have been unconscious for a while until recovering and flying off, others I have found dead with broken necks. It is a shame when human infrastructure confuses and harms wildlife.
Best wishes, Pete.
Another good reason not to clean windows (keeps them visible to birds).
How disturbing. I am sorry both for the bird and the pain it cause you! However, you had an excellent insight about the whole experience.
Thank you! It took a while to process the whole thing and get past the nightmare stage. I hope the bird recovered just as well.
Me too!
Sorry you and the bird had to go through all of that. Since we was gone when you looked we can hope he is okay and has found a safe place to let his head heal. Tzipporah is so cute and looks like a little sweetie.
She was not sure what to do with a bird in the house. Her answer to most things is to hunker down in her bed, which works for me too.
We have a garden aviary full of such, and a lot worse, injured birds. All recovered to certain degrees.
Yours looks like a possibly young collared dove (too young for collar-pattern), it has the shape and colouring. Lovely birds but easily frightened.
I can’t imagine what the birds are seeing when they come indoors; it must not make sense to them.
Poor little thing. We have mourning doves nearby. Their cooing in the Summer months is so soothing.
We have so many of these guys in the yard, but i never thought they’d fit through the whole next to the window. They are very well fed around here.
We often see birds (of all kinds) in our local mall. It’s sad to watch as they panic, flying here and there, banging against walls and trying so hard to escape. They eventually free themselves. The security guys generally leave the entrance/exit doors open making their escape easier. Then, of course, they have to make their way out of the underground car parks. So tough for our little feathered friends!
It’s nice that the security guards are trying to help.
They are fabulous guys and gals… always looking to help out whatever the circumstances!
Oh, how upsetting for everyone involved. I love doves. I’m glad he found his way to where he needed to be.
Me too!
Oh, that’s a Mourning Dove!
Mourning Dove! Good story.
Thank you!
Interesting…
Oh yes, a helmet! My son had a similar experience, and he acted like the old skits of a woman standing on a chair when she saw a mouse. This is so many years ago, and we still laugh. His wife’s friend, who is a bird lover, came to the rescue and removed the bird to freedom in mere moments – it must have been an equally disturbing experience for the bird. Glad the dove is now peacefully flying the freeing blue skies! V
God bless you for your kindness to one of His creations.
Thank you!
I like watching birds. I always wonder what messages they might be bringing us from wherever they fly around to, but I don’t want to get too close to them.
“new life lessons – about accepting help when you need it, and taking a breath when the strange dance of panic starts to take over – but these lessons are so hard to learn.” So true. And not only had to learn, but hard to find.
Next time, I would try to use a sheet or some sort of net to capture him so he doesn’t hurt himself so. You don’t want to do more damage by handling, but it seems that leaving him to continuously bloody his head is a worse option than if you pin him down briefly to then release outdoors. Wild mourning doves don’t understand ceilings, it seems!
A helmet! I love it¡