Something's Aflutter
We returned from a movie and a quick trip to the supermarket about 6 PM on Saturday. I was the last to go through the front door, and upon closing it, I noticed a rustling noise. I reopened the door and noticed that the Christmas wreath shifted slightly. I attributed the noise to the wreath.
On Sunday afternoon, I was about to leave the house via the front door and detected a rustling noise coming from behind an oil painting near the front door. The wall is at a 90 degrees angle to the front door when closed. When opened the front door covers the oil painting. Okay, back to the noise. I had partially opened the door and then closed it fully. The rustling continued. I stared at the 20 by 15 inch painting considering my options. The rustling continued. Something was trapped and would like to escape. The rustling noise continued. What could it be?
The possibilities were rushing through my brain. I kept coming back to the possibility of a rat; a young rat, but a rat just the same. A gecko was a consideration, but the sound was too big. We live in an old neighborhood and rats are somewhat common. We've never had any in our living space, but there have been a few in the attic, the garage and under the house. I was not excited about the possibility of releasing a rat from behind the painting. After a few moments of continued rustling noises, rational thinking started to return. If a rat was trapped behind the painting, it would have chewed its way out. The rat theory was losing sway. The gecko was still a long shot. Perhaps, it was a giant gecko, the type that took his vitamins, ate well and exercised regularly. I was slipping back into panic thinking. My wife was now at my shoulder encouraging all but rational thinking. The rustling continued.
I took off in search of a piece of cardboard harboring the intention of sliding it behind the painting, trapping and releasing the varmit outside. The attempt did not go according to plan. The painting moved enough to release the intruder. A small brown bird flew to the rear of the house finding shelter near the cable box and DVD player. Quick thinking allowed us to open the rear door of the house and frighten the bird into the great outdoors where he/she belonged. On reflection, we could not imagine how a bird entered the house. We are not prone to leaving our doors ajar. How could it have entered without notice? Well, it was a small bird; we agreed. How did it manage to find its was behind the painting? We may never know. Life returned to normal. Although, we did scan the house periodically hoping not to find another bird.
This is where you might imagine the voice of Paul Harvey informing you that the story is not yet complete. That same evening, I was headed out of the house. As I opened the front door, a bird nearly flew into me. Shades of Tippi Hedren. I then realized that the Christmas wreath on our front door had become a wonderful evening resting place for a small bird or two. The mystery was solved, and the wreath was relocated far from any door.
That's my Christmas story, Merry Christmas to all (except small brown birds in the house).
On Sunday afternoon, I was about to leave the house via the front door and detected a rustling noise coming from behind an oil painting near the front door. The wall is at a 90 degrees angle to the front door when closed. When opened the front door covers the oil painting. Okay, back to the noise. I had partially opened the door and then closed it fully. The rustling continued. I stared at the 20 by 15 inch painting considering my options. The rustling continued. Something was trapped and would like to escape. The rustling noise continued. What could it be?
The possibilities were rushing through my brain. I kept coming back to the possibility of a rat; a young rat, but a rat just the same. A gecko was a consideration, but the sound was too big. We live in an old neighborhood and rats are somewhat common. We've never had any in our living space, but there have been a few in the attic, the garage and under the house. I was not excited about the possibility of releasing a rat from behind the painting. After a few moments of continued rustling noises, rational thinking started to return. If a rat was trapped behind the painting, it would have chewed its way out. The rat theory was losing sway. The gecko was still a long shot. Perhaps, it was a giant gecko, the type that took his vitamins, ate well and exercised regularly. I was slipping back into panic thinking. My wife was now at my shoulder encouraging all but rational thinking. The rustling continued.
I took off in search of a piece of cardboard harboring the intention of sliding it behind the painting, trapping and releasing the varmit outside. The attempt did not go according to plan. The painting moved enough to release the intruder. A small brown bird flew to the rear of the house finding shelter near the cable box and DVD player. Quick thinking allowed us to open the rear door of the house and frighten the bird into the great outdoors where he/she belonged. On reflection, we could not imagine how a bird entered the house. We are not prone to leaving our doors ajar. How could it have entered without notice? Well, it was a small bird; we agreed. How did it manage to find its was behind the painting? We may never know. Life returned to normal. Although, we did scan the house periodically hoping not to find another bird.
This is where you might imagine the voice of Paul Harvey informing you that the story is not yet complete. That same evening, I was headed out of the house. As I opened the front door, a bird nearly flew into me. Shades of Tippi Hedren. I then realized that the Christmas wreath on our front door had become a wonderful evening resting place for a small bird or two. The mystery was solved, and the wreath was relocated far from any door.
That's my Christmas story, Merry Christmas to all (except small brown birds in the house).
That is a very interesting story!
ReplyDeleteMy mother had a wreath on her front door several years back in which house wrens took shelter. Since the door was seldom used they weren't bothered and felt at home.