Today I met this bird. I saw him trying to stand, clearly disoriented, and he had presumably flown straight into a window. He looked so small and vulnerable in the courtyard that I could not help but stop and stay by his side until he had recovered enough to take flight again. He was very confused, sitting perfectly still in my hand and staring at me with glazed, ruby red eyes. There was nary a flutter in his body. I watched his beautifully speckled feathers rise and fall with his breath, and I wondered what he thought of me--this giant with gentle hands--in that birdy brain of his. We sat together for a long time, he and I, until at last I reached out to touch his smooth back, and then the instinct pulled back over him, undid the daze, and with a smatter of wings he was gone, through the air, through the air.
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