But I think it was a grackle. Maybe a young grackle? ...or one that was impaired in some way?
It was in the same place when I went back upstairs to go back to bed . . . perched on the slant of the roof . . . and the slant of this roof is an impressive one . . . but it's nothing to a bird I suppose.
In the light of the flashlight's beam, this is, more or less, what I saw . . . the glowing yellow eyes in particular:
He looked a lot bigger in the dark than he did once I got some light on him . . . but any black blob attached at midnight to one's roof outside one's bedroom window . . . I think it would always look big.
I was sure the bird would be dead on the ground when I woke up again this morning. What non-waterbird could sit all night in chilly rain and not suffer for it? But at 5:30 he was on the roof ridge, having left evidence of his overnight stay on the shingles below. He didn't look a whole lot happier up there on the peak of the roof than he had sitting down below, but apparently he felt good enough to be mobile.
And now he's gone.
Another high adventure concluded.