We built a large backyard aviary this spring and all of my birds were moved outside in May and will stay out until October, or whenever the frosts threaten. They're loving the fresh air and sun. At the current time, I have eighteen feathered kids, mostly budgies plus some canaries, cockatiel, and a dove. I have just two proper finches these days - male societies named Apollo and Twix (father and son), but they're both very special to me. But early on this past Saturday morning, I was quite certain that I was down to just one finch, after my dear little Apollo - the first baby bird ever hatched when I first got into the hobby three years back, my hand-tame little dear with the sweetest song - sneakily zipped through the safety porch underfoot and shot off into the wild blue yonder of the neighborhood.
For more than an hour I trailed him from one little city yard to the next, as he curiously explored every low tree branch, hedgerow, and fence top around, occasionally alighting on a roof or a high wire for good measure. He wasn't afraid - far from it, he was singing up a storm as he flitted from house to house, across roads and through alleys. He did not, however, want to come back to me, and initially keeping near the yard where he could hear his son calling to him, after a while he began to make further and further ventures away from home that at eventually took him several streets away and across a busy boulevard, where he vanished into the trees along the highway and could no longer be heard. After a fruitless search through the area - a few city blocks away from home - I eventually returned home, certain my little bird would never find his way back after going such a far distance from his familiar home.
The day went by with no sign of my little guy, as his partner sat quiet by himself. I set a small cage with seed and water adjacent to the aviary, as Apollo would associate a cage with shelter if he returned to the area.
And sure enough, at six o'clock that evening - seven hours after his great escape - I was overjoyed to find that Apollo was inside the cage, door wide ajar, singing as happily and bouncing about. He had made his way back home, across the streets, through the hedges, and down the alley between tall apartment buildings. He had all the freedom in the world, but he still came home at the end of the day and waited patiently for me to let him back into the aviary. I was, and still am, quite impressed at his competetence in the great outdoors given his captive life, but apparently a lifetime of regular free-flight indoors and several months of acclimation outdoors bestowed him a pretty good ability to manage wind and sun, and to remember where he lived.
Taking the cage back into the aviary, my little guy promptly beelined to his buddy Twix and the two beaked and nestled together for the rest of the evening, and haven't gone far from one another's side since.
After this little adventure, my fondness for this little guy who I was sure was a goner has only increased. I've had dozens of finches, but there will never be another Apollo.
Apollo at 2 1/2 weeks
Apollo all grown up.
