Jill's Journal: The birds. Part 2.
If you recall, last week I wrote about my conundrum with the birds in my neck of the woods. For days, I battled with my beaked foe, who didn’t give up in their attempts to take up residency in the light fixture outside my front door.
If you’re wondering, yes, the zipper plastic bag is still covering the light fixture. I can only hope the neighbors aren’t wondering if this gal’s elevator goes all the way to the top floor or not, and I’m pretty sure I’m the only home in town – probably Minnehaha County, too – with a plastic bag covering an outdoor light fixture.
While my concept continues to keep a bird from making its home there, it seems a few of its “feathered” relatives still have a “beak” to pick with me, and they brought their “winged woes” across town to the Journal office.
Literally, hours after I had plunked out last week’s column about my bird nest battle, they got even with me by leaving a sizable deposit on my just-washed car.
OK, I’m smart enough to know that birds probably have no idea about the type or color of the car that I drive or where it may be at any given time, but at the time it sure felt like a “this-is-war” payback attack. Call it perfect timing and aim if you will.
But that’s not where this beaked bandit uprising ends.
With the onset of more welcome spring temperatures, you’ll see that we have a visible open-door policy here at the Journal office. Literally. And that was the setting for Friday’s bird invasion. Myself and Kim, our talented graphic artist, happened to be the only two in the office at the time. We were both busily at work at our computers when I heard Kim’s panicked announcement: “There are two birds in here.”
My immediate response: “Shut my door.”
That goes back to a time when my friend Diane and I were 20-something roommates living in a downtown Luverne, Minn., apartment. Let’s just say we weren’t the best at plugging every nook and cranny around the window air conditioner. I was wakened one morning to some obnoxious bird chirping and as I peeled my still-tired eyelids open, I woke right up when I spied a bird tweeting away on top of the TV in my bedroom.
I scampered to Di’s door to announce that we had an intruder, and if you haven’t guessed it by now, her response: “Shut my door.”
Back to our office bird invasion, there were two birds that swooped in our open door. I went into instant panic and Kim, well, she went to the “front lines.” The birds were attracted to the picture window, but of course, there was no way out. One of the birds quickly deciphered that, swooped through the office and like Santa Claus on Christmas Eve, “out the door” it flew.
The second bird, however, had no clue.
While it may not have been the best plan, Kim pulled the blinds away from the window while I – armed with a broom and a shovel and a plan to trap it in between my chosen “artillery” – simply didn’t pan out.
About this time, Carl, our advertising and marketing director, pulled up, and what to his wondering eyes should he see but two crazy ladies in full battle mode, one armed with a window blind and the other a broom and a shovel.
He could see we needed all the help we could get.
His idea was to remove the screen.
It was a good idea, but by the time that was achieved, the bird made a circle around the office and just as it swept in, it left in the same sweeping way.
I need to set the record straight: I’m not a bird hater. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. I love listening to their early-morning chatter outside the window, spying the first robin of the season and even ducking out of the way of a diving bluebird. But hey, it’s only May and I’ve gone to battle twice in a weeks’ time against this army of winged warriors. While I’m not waving the white flag, perhaps it would be in my best interest to head to the local hardware store for a bird feeder as a “we-can-both-live-here-in-peace” gesture.
