I heard a thud. The last time I'd heard this sound, a little hummingbird laid outside my window, gasping for air. Stilling itself to gather strength to resume its journey. This time it was a sparrow. Actually, two sparrows. Their feet entangled, beaks squawking, centimeters from the others face. Three other sparrows stood on the rails of my tiny balcony, watching.
At first I thought the birds had somehow become locked together. Possibly they were hurt. Then it looked like they were fighting. Finally, I realized they were probably mating. I grabbed my phone to snap a picture. The birds flew away. As soon as I returned to my seat the squawking resumed. I crept over to see tangled claws and wings outstretched. Spying me, they flew away. Together.
Like humans, apparently birds don't appreciate voyeurs to their mating rituals.