In the land of Goa, we visited a family friend who used to live in Canada and moved back to India when he retired from his job. He runs a family owned botanical garden and accommodation. The place is a … Continue reading
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And the songbirds keep singing
Like they know the score
And I love you I love you I love you
Like never before
Written by Liam Gallagher • Copyright © Universal Music Publishing Group
All things bright and beautiful
All creatures great and small
While I was drinking a cup of coffee, a couple of birds were reluctant to go closer to a pool of water because of my presence. I stood still and kept quite in order not to disturb them since I want their company. Slowly they took the courage to dip their feet on the water while peering at me. When they realized that I will remain motionless, they took the plunge.
This is my reward, a memory of my stay at Kochi, Kerala, India. In addition, I am learning how to use the power of computer photography. My very first GIF, perseverance has its own rewards.
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The symmetry of the peacock’s tail has been studied, researched and calculated by mathematicians, photographers, doctors, artist and many find it fascinating with its perfect beauty. I am unsure what’s the point of measuring the tail and feathers of the peacock. They are missing out … Continue reading
The Sun was shining,
birds were chirping,
high-flying birds photobombers
“Here at the National Air and Space Museum , we’re always interested in things that incorporate both Air and Space. As you can imagine, an example like this had our jaws on the floor. So we thank you, high-flying birds, even if you did “ruin” our footage.”
Source: Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum
You look funny, too.
First thing Monday morning.
Image Photograph by Michael Duggan, thank you.
The sound of the rattling call of wuk, wuk, wuk, I can tell that the woodpecker is in the neighborhood. The call starts slow and short; then it progresses to a rapid tone and louder. As it turned out, the Woodpecker is either up on the roof or down below in the garden.
Between the Seagulls, Robins and Crows, the Woodpecker has to compete with these birds. Small as it is and alone, it can scare the competitors just by its territorial call.
I was hoping that it would stay longer so I can enjoy this elusive bird but it stays only for a short while.
Last night, my neighbor reported to me that we have to have a funeral service.
Of course, I don’t particularly become surprised with her mellow dramatic character; I’m used to her performance. When there is death in the building, it’s either a cat, rat, mouse or a dead plant. I normally volunteer to do the service.
“So… what died and where will I find the body? “ I asked.
With so much preamble from her, I basically have to pull it out from her lips what I need to hear. First she has to make an assumption that somebody killed it. Maybe the raccoon did it or maybe a gigantic sewer rat or etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
As it turned out, her and her husband found the Woodpecker dead underneath the umbrella tree. They are aware that I am very fond of this bird better than their pet crows that they feed every day.
Damn, double damn; not the beautiful bird.
Armed with a spade and hand gloves, I started the service without them. I wanted to be alone with the Woodpecker. I did not to give it a name because once I do, I will become personally attached to it.
The bird is still soft to touch and much more beautiful closer. With its long beak, black and orange color, polka dot speck on white fluff of feathers are stunning. Lifting its weightless body, I laid it on a bed of flowers. Gradually covering it earth, placed rocks on top and more flowers just like being a cemetery. I buried it in my secret garden.
It was all a matter of fact what I just did. It was alive, now it’s dead. Deep down inside, I hope there are no babies somewhere in a hollow of a tree left behind. Now, I am beginning to become dramatic just like my neighbor and if I don’t stop this whole thing, it will make me miserable just by thinking about it. Enough.
So long, Woodpecker. Fly and cross the rainbow. Thank you for being there.
I heard the faint song of the chickadee. It was the female bird looking very pregnant ready to give birth. She was calling for her mate and he eventually came. Being a male, he took his time in responding to her call.
They are back to nest.
He came to check the house. He turned his tail this way, that way, poked his head inside the hole, tapped the wood, turned some more, moved on top of the house, moved down again on the perch. He was taking forever checking out the house and then he flew away. The female bird was left behind.
Now what! Where on earth did he go? Is he abandoning his future family? What a philandering bird, I thought.
She looked confused. I think I was more confused than the bird and wondered how come he did not go inside the house? She looked so sad. Not her, it’s me that was sad because she flew away as well.
I went out to check the bird house. The old nest was still in there and I don’t see anything nor do I hear anything unusual inside.
Maybe there’s something else other than the old nest. Maybe they don’t like a dirty house. Too man maybe going in my mind and it was actually a simple forgetfulness of doing spring cleaning.
So I cleaned up the house and found out a queen bee inside with a lone slave. Can’t let the queen bee procreate and produce a million minions living in my balcony. Therefore, I let her go and she flew away as fast as she could.
The birds did not return. I will just have to wait for next spring and hopefully remember to do spring cleaning.
“Letting go isn’t the end of the world; it’s the beginning of a new life.” ~Unknown
Birds on the wires
I would have never thought that these crows can compose a musical score. Through a mere curiosity, this video is created. Just brilliant.
“Reading a newspaper, I saw a picture of birds on the electric wires. I cut out the photo and decided to make a song, using the exact location of the birds as notes (no Photoshop edit). I knew it wasn’t the most original idea in the universe. I was just curious to hear what melody the birds were creating.
I sent the music to the photographer, Paulo Pinto, who I Googled on the internet. He told his editor, who told a reporter and the story ended up as an interview in the very same newspaper.
Here I’ve posted a short video made with the photo, the music and the score.”
Also check my live presentation of Birds on the Wires at TEDx São Paulo: tedxsaopaulo.com.br/jarbas-agnelli/
Today is new day.
I am creature of habit
Bird watching weather permitting
Standing at the entrance of the park
With a handful of bird seeds
The seeds will feed the birds
The joy of birds feeding
Will feed my heart.
The penguin’s laughter is so contagious and it loves being tickled.
It reminded me of the time when I was younger how I loved being tickled by my big brother. I cried in the end coz’ it was sheer torture being tickled.
Meet “Buddybuddybuddy…” the cockatiel.
I certainly feel like Buddy should I not get a caffeine fix.
Source: Okay Listen Here
Credited to pawnation.com
Did I get your attention? Nope, I am not serving Tequila. Instead this is an introduction to an American Woodcock dancing to the tune of Tequila!
Tim Flanigan This is a hen that has been caught by a winter storm that is preventing her from probing for her earthworm diet. The “dance” is actually a form of seismographic testing in an attempt to encourage an earthworm to move so that her ultra-sensitive feet can detect it and she can probe for it. She normally eats nearly her body weight in worms daily. This bird is in trouble.
Oh dear, I hope the bird will find other ways to forage.
On my way to work, something fell from the sky. As I walked closer to it, it appeared to be a small piece of paper iridescent green colour. I bend down to pick it up and it was paper light.
Good Lord. A hummingbird. I don’t know what to do. I was so scared that it might have died from the impact of hitting the pavement. It was breathing so fast. Stroking it as gently as possible and praying to it “Please do not die” was all I can do,
I turned around and went to the nearest bush. I laid it gently, left and hope it will come back to its senses.
On my coffee break around 10 am, I went to check the bush. The hummingbird was gone. I hope it flew away.
This was the first time I encountered a hummingbird.
Fast forward a year later. Spring, a beautiful sunny day, however, the dark night of the soul is trying to invade me.
I was gardening on my balcony at the same time talking to God.
God, where are you. I don’t particularly like how I am feeling, please take this away from me. Where are you?
Suddenly I heard this whooshing sound. It was high pitched buzzing more like it. Am I hearing things now? Or the tension is affecting my eardrums again?
I look up and right in front of me was this beautiful golden hummingbird.
Oh my God. I repeated this so many times in my mind. Transfixed to this small creature, I did not breathe nor move for fear of scaring it away.
Time stood still.
Zoom, it was gone. So was the dark night of the soul.
From here on, the hummingbird is my constant companion especially when I tend to garden. One hummer brought others and they stay around all year.Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year. Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees. And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid air stand still. For this is love and nothing else is love,
The which it is reserved for God above
To sanctify to what far ends He will,
But which it only needs that we fulfill. A Robert Frost Hummingbird Poem
With my canine nose sensitivity, I managed to track down Mr. Gordon and asked him if I can use his photos and quote him. He gladly agreed and then I let go of his pants. Yup, this is another power of canine: teeth biting the hem of his pants. Thank you Mr. Gordon and these are his pictures. What a beauty! For more pictures, click on The Canadian Warbler.blogspot.ca
On the other hand, I wonder if the bird misses its flock. I am feeling lonely for the bird being alone by itself. I hope it will find its group and be reunited with them. God speed little birdie.
Enjoy.Related Links: The Canadian Warbler.blogspot.ca Burnaby Bird Guy.wordpress.com