Every year in Iceland, residents of the Vestmannaeyjar islands, knee-deep in baby puffins, have to pick up these confused babies and toss them for their own good. Before I delve into it, please note that it sounds worse than it is.

Baby puffins are easily led astray. Every night during peak season, volunteers who range from kids to seasoned bird wranglers comb towns for wayward puffins who have been distracted by the artificial lights of civilization. Instead of following the moon’s glow out into the sea, they’re lured inland and end up stranded in backyards and parking lots.

They don’t yet have the strength to fly, making them easy pickings for predators and easily squishable under car tires. To save them, locals use flashlights and cardboard boxes to wrangle them together, point them i

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