Chirping Fireplace

In the past month, some flying fiends decided to take refuge in a corner of our roof above the fireplace with no access from the inside.  Fearful of the foul discharges that could transform my siding into a mural, the thought of staging a siege by denying access to their entrance and devoiding them of nourishment had crossed my mind, but my compassionate side suggested otherwise.  Thus we coinhabited with the unwelcomed guests.

Yesterday, a tapping sound and flapping of wings echoed through the acoustics of fireplace.  The mother must have submerged into the abyss of the fireplace fixture.  Without access to the space, I had no choice by to lay still watching TV while she was destined to rot in the confines of the wall gap for all eternity.

All that changed today at noon, however, when she bumped her way through the labyrinth of drywall and 2x4s and made her way to the exit and into our family room.

After arming myself with anti-bacterial device in the form of baseball gloves, we began a 15-minute game of tag going from the family room to the guest room to the living room.  Each time she was able to elude my dragon claws and glide away.  Finally, as the bird jetted its way out of the guest room, Karen executed the spiderman web maneuver and enveloped the rascal with a piece of towel.

So I carried the towel, along with the bird, to the world that she knew before the inadvertant self-captivity, and exposed her to the ray of sunshine she’s yearned to see.  As quickly as she entered, she wisped away with the waves of the wind.  She left no words of gratitude, just some excreta for us to clean up.