It is extremely rare to have a bird strike on windows at my home on the Somerset Levels. In fact, in ten years it has only happened 3 times. On all occasions the birds have survived. The young male Kingfisher that I had been filming since last summer suddenly crashed into the studio window. I immediately picked it up and made sure my 2 dogs were safely shut in the house. My heart was pounding, desperately willing the Kingfisher to be alive.
I saw its eye blinking and it looked around, surprisingly alert. I was keen not to add any more stress to the creature than needed, so took a quick pic with my phone and took it back outside to release.
It took around 5 minutes from my outstretched hand to finally fly off. It was a heart-in-your-mouth kind of experience, torn between wanting it to fly and wanting it to stay sat in your hand forever. It was light and warm and I wanted to say we looked into each others eyes…
Later that evening and sporadically through the night I had waves of anxiety that the Kingfisher may have died from delayed shock. Early hours I was out the next day, relieved and overjoyed to watch him on his favourite perch, catching breakfast.
