This morning we heard a thump against our window.
I presumed it was our cat jumping at some insect on the other side of the glass but when Cath said the cat was somewhere else I feared the worst.
When I went over to investigate there was un roitelet huppé on the ground.
It was clearly dazed so I went outside to check it wasn’t badly hurt and to keep an eye on it.
It is the smallest bird in France.
My French bird book tells me it is called the little king because when it is attracting a mate it ruffles its gold crest and it looks like a crown.
After about 20 minutes this little king had recovered enough to fly off into a nearby oleander.
Take care now little king.
Thrown to (the) Lyon 
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