It begins with a faint flutter, like a rustle of paper. Enough to make you stop and listen, wondering if you might have imagined it. 

But the rustling repeats at intervals, growing louder as it gets closer. The dogs take notice, lifting their heads before running over to investigate. Still, you think, it might be nothing; it might go away. 

Until the unmistakable beating begins, accompanied by a screeching sound like nails on a chalkboard. It’s not nails on a chalkboard: It’s the sound of a bird’s feet and wings struggling against a metal pipe. 

There’s a Starling in the wood stove. Again.

Click here to continue reading this week’s “Faith in Vermont” column in The Addison Independent.