Tuesday Morning Wake-Up Call

When you have seen one ant, one bird, one tree, you have not seen them all. 

E. O. Wilson, in an interview in 1992, is an American biologist, researcher, theorist, naturalist and author. His biological specialty is myrmecology, the study of ants, on which he has been called the world’s leading expert.


Photo & Post: Northern Carmine Bee-eater photo by Mike Wilson.  Thank you Dan via Your Eyes Blaze Out (via San Diego Zoo)

A good memory moves me through the current

I hear birds and whispers
Like water gnawing a hull

I build a fire
In the bottom of my boat
A good memory moves me through the current

Frank Stanford, from “If She Lives in the Hills,” What About This: Collected Poems of Frank Stanford

 


Notes: Poem: via Vale of Soul Making. Photo (via The Guardian) by Cherry Kearton in 1890s: Dartford warbler and chick on Richard Kearton’s hand: ‘By the exercise of a little patience I tamed the adult female until she would at last alight on my hand and feed one of the fledglings, at rest on my wrist, without the slightest sign of fear or nervousness.

 

Sunday Morning

Let’s ease in softly on a pretty day. Spring came to New York this week after a month of gloomy cold and drizzle. The sun was out. Monday afternoon just before dusk there was a bird outside my window, all by itself and singing so loudly—byeet-byeet-chur-chur-chur. Over and over as if it had just discovered its voice. I was emailing with a friend, your basic hard-bitten journalist, and told him what I was hearing—it sounded like the beginning of the world. He wrote back not with irony but with the information that a band of baby rabbits had just taken over his garden and were out there hopping and bopping: “They are so excited to be on earth.” This struck me as the most important news of the day.

~ Peggy Noonan, What Does This Moment Demand of Us? (wsj.com, April 26, 2018)


Photo: Vivienne Gucwa with New York City in Spring

I heard and then began to feel, in my chest, a deep rhythmic whooshing

A few years ago in a forest in northeast India, I heard and then began to feel, in my chest, a deep rhythmic whooshing. It sounded meteorological, but it was the wingbeats of a pair of great hornbills flying in to land in a fruiting tree. They had massive yellow bills and hefty white thighs; they looked like a cross between a toucan and a giant panda. As they clambered around in the tree, placidly eating fruit, I found myself crying out with the rarest of all emotions: pure joy. It had nothing to do with what I wanted or what I possessed. It was the sheer gorgeous fact of the great hornbill, which couldn’t have cared less about me.

The radical otherness of birds is integral to their beauty and their value. They are always among us but never of us. They’re the other world-dominating animals that evolution has produced, and their indifference to us ought to serve as a chastening reminder that we’re not the measure of all things. The stories we tell about the past and imagine for the future are mental constructions that birds can do without. Birds live squarely in the present. And at present, although our cats and our windows and our pesticides kill billions of them every year, and although some species, particularly on oceanic islands, have been lost forever, their world is still very much alive. In every corner of the globe, in nests as small as walnuts or as large as haystacks, chicks are pecking through their shells and into the light.

~ Jonathan Franzen, from Why Birds Matter, and Are Worth Protecting (NatGeo, January 2018)


Photo of Great Hornbill by Roham Sheikholeslami

Miracle. All of it. (110 sec)


“The art of flying is a short film about “murmurations”: the mysterious flights of the Common Starling. It is still unknown how the thousands of birds are able to fly in such dense swarms without colliding. Every night the starlings gather at dusk to perform their stunning air show. Because of the relatively warm winter of 2014/2015, the starlings stayed in the Netherlands instead of migrating southwards.”

“The Art of Flying” by Jan van IJken


Related Posts: Miracle. All of it.

Monday Morning Wake-Up Call


Source: Cherly Jong (Jakarta Pusat, Jakarta, Indonesia)

 

 

Monday Morning Wake-Up Call


Notes:

Monday Morning Wake-Up Call


Notes:

  • Photo 1: Migrating great white pelicans are fed at a water reservoir in Mishmar Hasharon, central Israel, as part of an Israeli Agriculture Ministry-funded project that aims to prevent the pelicans from feeding at commercial fish-breeding pools. (Photo by Ronen Zvulun, Reuters in wsj.com October 24, 2017 Photos of the Day)
  • Photo 2: Great White Pelicans gather to feed in Israel’s Hefer Valley on Wednesday. Israel’s ministry of agriculture says it will continue funding a project to feed thousands of Great White Pelicans who fly annually over the country. (Ariel Schalit, AP, October 18, 2017)

Monday Morning Wake-Up Call


Photo: by Toby Melville/Reuters from wsj.com – Thousands of wading birds flying onto sandbanks during high tide at The Wash estuary in Norfolk, England.

Lightly Child, Lightly.

Sometimes the call of a bird is so clear
it bruises my hands.

~ Joanna Klink, from “The Graves,” in Excerpts from a Secret Prophecy

Inspired by: The Ruby Throated Hummingbird, the smallest bird species that breeds in Canada and the US.


Notes:

  • Photo: via Your Eyes Blaze Out
  • Prior “Lightly child, lightly” Posts? Connect here.
  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”

 

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