One day a loud thud indicated that a bird had flown into the living room window. My casual check out the window was met with the surprising sight of this:
A kingfisher! Poor beautiful bird. It was a New Zealand kingfisher, also known as sacred kingfisher or kotare. We rarely see kingfishers around our parts, let alone have them fly into our windows. Fortunately for this kingfisher, I have chicken skills. It didn’t look good lying on the ground there but I picked it up to have a look at it. It had a spot of blood on one side by its beak, probably from impact with the bark on the ground, but its legs and wings seemed ok, aside from weakness. I put it in a box with some comfy rags on the outdoor table and left it to rest. Stressed birds need rest and quietness. I preoccupied the small child.
Some time later, we went to check it and it flew swiftly out of the box upon The Little Fulla’s approach, before I could even see it. I was very pleased that it was ok. The Little Fulla was not impressed. “It’s not ok! It flew into a window again!” No, no it didn’t. “It’s NOT ok!” He was disappointed that he didn’t get to fulfill his secret plan of having a pet kingfisher.