Well, it actually started earlier in the day. I will start there. I was making a late breakfast and awaiting the coffee when I noticed that the far birdfeeder (im quoting my thoughts at the moment) "looked more full than yesterday". I thought nothing of it, as anyone could have filled it up, but it was noticeable enough and strange enough that there was a sudden change in the seed quantity that the memory stuck with me. Weird, but not altogether remarkable.
Then, later in the day I noticed again that the feeder was swaying much more than either the other feeders or the local trees/branches. It seemed weird, weird enough to make me put down whatever it was that I was doing and take notice of the feeder in a more analyzing manner. I grabbed my binoculars (thinking that perhaps a larger, more rare bird was at the feeder and I should gaze more acutely). I looked...in ocular excellence...and saw nothing. There was something that made the feeder swing gregariously, but I could not see the culprit.
Then, later in the day, as this post began, I was making granola bars. I was just finished making them and setting them in the oven when I poured myself a cup of coffee and gazed out the kitchen window, to the back yard, and began a scan for birds and our neighbourhood squirrel.
Then, it happened.
I looked at the feeder.
It was swaying frantically. There were no birds, but I was watching the feeder rock violently.
I looked closer, to the seeds themselves, and made the realization that elevated me to the level of Jesus (only difference being that I actually exist).
In the feeder was a bird. A pine siskin. One of the birds that has recently flocked our backyard was trapped in our birdfeeder, and had been since at least the morning. In quick mathematical fashion I quantified this birds captivity time and realized that it had been at least 8 hours trapped in this feeder! I dropped my coffee mug, dashed out the door, leaped down the stairs, bounded across the grass and took a hold of the feeder. The siskin began more violent convulsions, out of fear of a human grasping at the lure of its captivity, but I took no concern. I needed to get it out. I then was able to take the lid off, lean the feeder over and .... it held on. It didnt want to be in there, but it didnt want to leave at the hand of a human.
However, after moments of apologetic language from me, gentle nudges and slight angles, the poor little siskin crawled/fluttered out of the feeder and flew away. I felt horrible, thinking that if I had decoded to no make granola bars and instead go biking or do some work, then it may have spent (possibly another) night in the feeder. I watched it fly away and was happy to see its fluid motions unrestricted.
Here, below, I have recreated the event. I brought the feeder inside - the reason it was caught in the feeder was because of a faulty string that held the lid open, and I intend to fix that before re-setting it - and recreated the event.
Caveats.
1) I could not bring the same bird inside, nor another bird. I had to us an alternative object. I realize that the siskin bears no likeliness to a banana.
2) I didn't actually "grab the bird" as the picture asserts. I rather urged it out of the feeder.
3) There WAS melodically nostalgic music playing in the background while the entire event took place in slow motion
The feeder - the faulty design cannot be discerned form this picture, but it is there.
Normally, as this picture explains, the birds would feed from the outside of the feeder. (Note the stem of the banana trying to eat the seed?!? See it!?)
Our little siskin decided to take the buffet to an extreme and entered the feeder proper. Of course, once the seed ran out the realization came clear that it was trapped. Until then, I am sure that it was pleasure.
I gathered the birds senses and urged it to find freedom - it did, and it was free again.
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