Operation Sparrow Rescue

I do not know what would possess a free little bird to explore narrow dark stove pipe. Perhaps it is the coolness of such a nook in the heat of the day when no fire has been lit for a month or more. Whatever their reasons, birds do explore such pipes from time to time, and when the pipe they choose is the one extending from my parents roof, they find themselves at the bottom trapped in a small round room of glass. The flue of the chimney is arranged in a way that makes it rather surprising that a bird could ever find its way around it, and not at all surprising that they never find their way back.

Today as I sat on the sofa with a glass of iced tea, reading a book and thinking about nothing in particular, I heard a scratching sound and discovered such a sparrow exploring its new cell. This time of year the fireplace is converted into something of a greenhouse for my mothers houseplants, and amidst the leaves and stems the bird must have felt well enough at home, for he didn't seem too frightened yet. But when I moved closer to inspect the tiny prisoner, he started suddenly and began to dart about, desperately seeking an opening in the glass walls.

I stepped back to contemplate how best to release him. When this has happened before, we have opened the large picture windows on either side of the house and chased the birds out with brooms. But I was alone at the moment and not at all sure that I could direct the bird to the window without another person to block off other routes.

Finally I thought of the collapsible laundry hamper that Colby had brought back with him from college for the long weekend. It was nearly the right size to set against the door. I spread some bread crumbs in, opened the fireplace door and set the basket against it. Mr. Sparrow was not to be tempted by the food however. He resolutely kept flying against the transparent glass on every other side of the fireplace. I would have to scare him into the hamper.

This took a bit of creativity with tapping on the glass using long objects to reach around the fireplace, but was eventually accomplished. I slammed a piece of cardboard over the hamper, and moving slowly, so as to scare the little bird as little as possible, carried the makeshift cage out of doors. As we walked, the sparrow flung himself against the net sides and against the cardboard, quite panicked. There was nothing someone as big as I could do to comfort him, although I tried to tell him that his journey would last only a moment or two longer.

Finally, out under a juniper in the front yard, I set the hamper down and took off the cardboard. The sparrow, however, had hidden himself in a corner and refused to come out - I suppose he thought I was waiting for him at the top of the basket. I tipped the hamper on its side and fairly shook him loose. For an instant he tumbled on the ground, then, gathering himself took off flying away as fast as he could and chattering to himself non-stop.