My Edgar Allan Poe moment

4 mins read


There was an annoying little bird tapping at my window recently. As it turned out, she was not really tapping as much as flinging her body into the window.

She was a small gray bird with a red spiked hairdo that reminded me of someone dressed up to go to an alien creature convention. I believe she was either a sparrow or a finch.

I did everything to make her stop. I closed the curtains, I folded down the shade, turned off lights. She would not stop until I pounded on the window. Then she would fly off, only to return a short time later, lunging herself toward me, or her mirrored self.

Her favorite limb appeared to be one on the large Magnolia tree outside my office window. When I knocked on the glass to get her to stop running into the window, she would fly from one limb to another.

It was hard to spot her because of her size. She was much smaller than the Magnolia leaves and her grayish feathers would fade into to the limbs.

“Knock it off!” I screamed at her numerous times.

The truth is I started to get quite fond of that bird and decided I would rather not have her break her neck on the window. It appeared as if she liked me too. I thought birds were afraid of humans. Or maybe she suffered brain damage from flying into the window so many times.

I finally had it the other day. I went down to the garage and pulled out one of those long-poled tree trimmers. The only way to get this bird to leave me alone was to trim off some of the branches. As I stood there getting ready to open the window, she flew toward me. I quickly shut the window.

That is when I realized that if I did not time this right, she would come into the house and most likely wind up in one of the skylights. All I could imagine was her stuck in the skylight flying up to the glass trying to get out.

I smacked the window to scare her, and she flew down to a small bush. I started cutting quickly to get the limbs down before she came back.

It worked. No more bird. I was not sure where she went, but at least I did not have to worry about finding her broken body in my yard.

Later that night my husband asked, “Do you hear that noise?”

I recognized the sound at once. “A gentle tapping, tapping on my chamber door.”

“Tis the wind,” I said, “and nothing more.”

Lee Scott, a writer and recent retiree, shares her everyday observations about life after career. A former commercial banker responsible for helping her clients to reach their business objectives, Scott now translates those analytical skills to her writings. She lives on St. Helena Island and enjoys boating, traveling and reading.

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