Today I went upstairs to get dressed after a lazy start, and found a robin in my bedroom. It was plainly scared, and kept beating its wings against the big window pane, but couldn't find the opening. So I went and opened the window as wide as it would go and left it to find its way out. However, fifteen minutes later it was still there, and I decided I had better give it a gentle prod in the right direction with a newspaper.
While I was by the window I heard the strangest noise from outside - a rhythmic crunching, as though an army was approaching down the path. No sign of any such thing outside - but a few pigeons. Then I realised that the noise was coming from the pigeons as they were trampling on the dry oak leaves that surround the house. I made some scary gesture at the pigeons and about twelve of them went flying up. They had got into a real feeding frenzy because they could hear the beating of the wings of the trapped robin and knew it would die soon, and in their excitement they were going crunch, crunch with their feet on the leaves, in a yum, yum sort of rhythm.
So the coast was clear for it when I got the robin out, and I hope it survived its ordeal. Haven't had a robin in the house for years.
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