It's always an adventure living up here in the mountains.  Yesterday afternoon we noticed a tufted titmouse flying at the peak of our windows on the south side of the house.  It then flew around to the north side and continued the effort of what seemed to me like trying to get into the house.  The bird effortlessly worked at locating an entrance.  When it tired itself out, it rested on the window ledge, then resumed the effort.  I assumed it thought the nest was somewhere in the house.  Another theory was its GPS was outdated and the bird needed to pay the update fee and connect to all the satellites for better coordinates.  Anyway, I was heartbroken watching the little guy continuously thrust himself into the window while making distressed calls and cries.  I consulted my Cornell Ornithology site but couldn't find any answers.  Then called my other source of scientific information, my partner in crime and a very knowledge science teacher in Florida.  Barb said the bird most likely sees something that it thinks it needs and we should cover the windows with newspapers.  Well, we don't have any newspapers because our Cherokee Scout is a Wednesday only publication and if we don't stop at McDonald's for a senior decaf, we don't read that week's paper.  So we duct-taped a queen-size flat sheet over the bedroom window.  This morning the bird started at the south window but I refused to cover those peaked windows.  Whenever we stepped out the kitchen door, it flew off so that worked for awhile.  About an hour ago, I googled odd bird behaviors to find that other people have witnessed this same bird behavior.  An explanation that makes sense is that during breeding season the male sees the reflection as another bird in his territory.  The bird doesn't recognize the reflection as his and tries to drive the other bird from his territory.  Barb was on the right track.  Hopefully, this territorial behavior won't last much longer.  It's heartbreaking to witness.