This little creature is a Goldcrest. Earlier today it flew into a window and stunned itself. Bert saw it happen and picked the wee bird up before either of our two cats came upon it.
Hold on, 'til I get my camera, although I really hope it's flown off before I get it.
It didn't fly off, still too stunned. I asked Bert,
Is there something wrong with its feet?
No. It's not used to standing on flat surfaces. It needs to be holding on to twigs.
We took it over to the clematis montana and set it on a tendril. It fell for a moment, then found its wings and flew away over the hedge and into the meadow. Relief.
Now this fellow is a vine weevil. I've no idea how it found its way into the kitchen but that day that Bert got injured by the bullock there was one in the cab of the van. I was going to tell him all about it but forgot when I saw how he was hurt. Vine weevils are the enemy of horticulturists for their larvae love to eat the roots of plants such as clematis, primula and strawberries. I let the little brute wander around the kitchen and hope it dies before it finds one of my plants. They make a horrible, crunchy noise when they are killed and I'm just not in the mood.
Isn't it funny how one of God's creatures is a complete darling and another an utter bastard. Makes one think.
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