Early one morning this summer, we were awakened by a strange banging; it was coming from downstairs.
My wife was the first to discover the cause, and with more than a trace of trepidation she called to me saying, “Mike, we have a problem.” There were smudges and white spots all over the large picture window in the dining room, and we both watched with chagrin as a robin repeatedly flew into the window.
It was a large male. He would perch on the deck railing and then charge into the window knocking himself to the ground each time; then, as if in a trance, he would repeat it over and over again. It quickly became obvious what the white spots were — he was literally beating the crap out of himself.
I tried to shoo him away, but every time I stopped he would start up again. My wife is a bird watcher and a bird lover, so she did what any savvy 21st Century seeker would do in a situation like this: she went directly to Google, typed in “robin smashing into window” and wouldn’t you know, up came a detailed explanation of why male robins engage in this crazy behavior.
Apparently, when the light is just right, the bird sees his reflection in the glass and thinks that the handsome, virile male robin he sees in the reflection is another bird encroaching on his turf, threatening his mate and her nest — so he attacks, wildly, over and over again, never quite able to determine that it is, in fact, him.
Obviously, robins are limited in their cognitive abilities, especially males; the concept of glass, a reflection and a sense of self just doesn’t exist for a robin. The Google article suggested taping paper on the window to break up the reflection. I happened to find the previous day’s Times nearby — yes, the editorial page — so I quickly taped it to the glass and the robin flew off convinced I’m sure that he had successfully fought off his foe.