Well, that was a surefire way to not get a lot of sleep last night…
Thanks to the reasonably temperate weather we have been enjoying here in Eastern Tennessee, we have mostly been getting by with simply leaving the windows open at night – the house does tend to get a little warm during the day, and it might not be as cool as we would prefer when we go to bed, but it is a hell of a lot cheaper than turning on the A/C. With the END OF THE WORLD storms approaching last night (though they did not actually make it here until this morning), we decided to go ahead and close the windows to keep the house from flooding, and instead investigated whether or not our master bedroom balcony had a screen door. Lo and behold it did, and since it is sheltered from the elements, we were still good to go.
Said balcony is actually an alcove in the side of the house, with it being fully enclosed on all but one side; that particular opening is about the size of a normal sliding/French door, with the usual semi-wall drop-down from the ceiling you would expect to be over your patio door. We pulled the screen door and investigated it for holes or passengers (wasps and spiders both like the cave-like balcony), and were wrapping up to go to bed when I noticed a very strange, rather large thing attached to the inside of the wall over the balcony opening – we are talking about something around three inches in diameter, and in muted grays, blacks, and browns.
Thinking we had the beginnings of the mother of all wasp nests, I turned on the balcony light and looked a little more closely. Nope, not a nest. Not an insect of any type. Better Half thought it was a frog, but neither of us had glasses, and it was a bit dark out there, so I went to grab my flashlight.
Nope, it was a bird. Somehow a bird had flown into the balcony, over the "window", lodged itself against the wall there, and gone to sleep – I guess it was able to find purchase somewhere in the vinyl siding for its itty bitty claws, but damned if I know. So now the inevitable question of, "Is it still alive?"
I look at the bird as closely as I can on our side of the screen (by the way, moths have the craziest little eyes when flashlights hit them), and cannot make any definitive conclusions, so I start to open the screen door again andZOMGTHEBIRDISFLYINGKEEPITOUTCLOSETHEDOOR and off it vanishes into the darkness of our back yard. Wonderful.
The bloody thing was probably more scared than we were, but I just want to know how it wedged itself up there, and how it managed to sleep through us slamming the door around (bit sticky, since we had never used it), turning on and off the balcony light, shining a flashlight around, and talking a fair bit…
I mean, hell, does our house accumulate rail-mounted sparrows during the night?