One day after mowing the lawn, I walked past our egress window well and heard some insistent chirping.  Peering into the four-foot deep hole, I saw a fledgling bluebird staring up at me.  She repeatedly tried to fly out but was only able to get about halfway up the corrugated tin walls.  Run, fly, fall, run, fly, fall.

I don’t know whether she had flown/fallen from her nest in the maple tree straight past the soft landing of green grass to the rocky bottom of the window well or if she was scampering on the ground trying to get away from the scary mower.  At any rate, she was uninjured, quite feisty, and determined to get out of there.  But it was plain to see that she wasn’t going to be able to do that without a little help.

So I rummaged through the shed and found an old board and slowly slid it into the window well to make a ramp.  She flew over it a few times, then landed on it and took a tentative step or two up the board.  My presence at the topside was still too distracting for her, however, and she hopped back down to the rocks.

I decided I would watch her ascent through the window in the basement.  She quickly turned to watch me watching her one more time!  She clung to the board with her tiny claws but would go no further while the camera and I looked her way.

So I left.  I walked into the laundry room to put something away.  And she left.  I didn’t see her walk up the board or fly from her open-aired prison.  In less than thirty seconds, this determined little fledgling had made her way up and out to the place where she belonged–but she could not have done it without a little help from a friend.