We’re well into spring, even if seasons change on a dime in San Francisco. That means lots of baby birds. This one somehow made it into the garage. It was so tiny a breeze might have brought it inside. I heard what sort of sounded like a chirp, and thought maybe the car or water heater were making noises. I approached cautiously, but the thing was either too young to recognize danger of the approach of a larger animal (i.e., me) or too petrified to do anything. I shooed it out. It couldn’t fly. It just sort of hopped with the aid of its fledgling wing power. I imagine it may have literally just fallen out of its nest.