It was a chilly November morning in Boston. The streets were nearly empty as the sun was just beginning to peek out from behind the sea of buildings. The city was peaceful, except for one seventeen-year-old girl crying hysterically next to a trash can. Yep. That’s me.
In order to explain why it is that I interrupted a beautiful morning with the annoying sound of my high pitched wails and frantic pacing, it is vital to understand what exactly it was that caused me to be in such a state of distress on that fine morning. It all began an hour earlier, when I stepped out of the blue line train station. I was instantly greeted by a small bird sitting on the sidewalk, staring directly at me. I walked closer, eager to get a better look. I suppose this was not the best decision because the second the little bird saw me heading its way, It flew across the street directly into a window.
I immediately ran across the street towards the bird, who had fallen straight into a trash can underneath the glass window it had previously slammed into. I peeked into the trashcan, praying that I had not actually just murdered a bird with my presence. To my horror, I found the bird underneath a pile of trash laying in a pool of blood. It was still breathing. In that instant, I accepted that the survival of this bird was my responsibility. The next 60 minutes were a blur of guilt for potentially killing a bird and calling every single animal rescue hotline in the city of Boston (who knew there were so many animal rescue hotlines!). Finally, I ended up calling animal control because this was clearly a life or death situation. After ten minutes of crying over the phone about the bird to an emergency hotline employee who was tired of dealing with me from the moment I said “the bird looks very scared and very sad,” I was informed that someone was coming to the bird’s aid.
So that’s how I ended up here, forty minutes later, still crying over a bird. Finally, an animal control officer comes to save the day. After one look at the bird, he informs me that the bird is completely fine. Awkward.
This bird is a Woodcock, a species of bird that migrates alone from southern Canada and Maine to the southeastern United States. Woodcocks, along with most other birds, can often lose their bearings in travel, and can find themselves doing things that would appear concerning such as flying into windows. When this occurs, the bird will fall to the ground and appear to be dying when in reality it is just stunned. The bird will recover for up to two hours before getting up and continuing its migration.
I have chosen to share my embarrassing story in the hopes that it will help a fellow animal lover to not freak out over a bird that is completely fine. If you see a stunned bird, simply leaving it to recover is all that is necessary in order for the bird to continue its migration. And please, don’t bother the on-call animal control officer.