For about 20000 years my House List has had a glaring hole in it .... an Osprey-shaped hole. But, this morning at 0850 BST, one flew high over the house, going south. Woo ! What on earth it was doing I've no idea. But there it was. The thing is, a certain birder I know can hardly get out of his front door without getting surrounded by the blasted things. I've suspected for a long time that his roof, garden and favourite birding hat have been daubed with fish paste every night ready for the morning Osprey-Rush. Or maybe he's bought some "magic spectacles" from a local Witch. If only I knew which Witch, I would have done the same. But I'm not bothered any more ... 'tis on my House List at last. Oh yes, I can, at times, be a shallow old Hector. I had several "suitable" songs lined up for this post... But I couldn't find "good" versions of any of them. But this, though irrelevant, is smashing. Just see what the guitarist does at the end of the song ...
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I was a bit late photographing the little dodgers though ... So these two birds, each 12 cm long, are flying towards each other, both at a stately 2m/sec. Then their two beak-tips are in line with each other, and a very short time later their two tail-tips are in line ... then they continue on their separate ways. For a brief few moments, they overlapped. And now, of course, some questions .... [a] One of them was called Bob. What was the other one called ? [b] What sort of bird were they ? [c] What was their mean velocity? Well ...that wasn't too bad was it ? No. But just in case you don't know, the answers will appear after the music. No peeking now ! Anyway, maybe they were just in my imagination .... There was a game we used to play
We would hit the town on Friday night And stay in bed until Sunday We used to be so free We were living for the love we had and Living not for reality It was just my imagination [x3] There was a time I used to pray I have always kept my faith in love It's the greatest thing from the man above The game I used to play I've always put my cards upon the table Let it never be said that I'd be unstable It was just my imagination [x3] There is a game I like to play I like to hit the town on Friday night And stay in bed until Sunday We'll always be this free We will be living for the love we have Living not for reality It's not my imagination [x3] Not my [x18] So ...those vital answers .... [a] The other one was called boB. Because he was going in the opposite direction to Bob. Obvious eh ! [b] What sort of bird were they ? Passerines of course. Easy-peasy Passerines gets full marks as well. [c] Well ,their mean velocity was zero.They were going in opposite directions. Doh !! Velocity, unlike the rather vague "speed", is vector quantity, not a scalar. As we all know, well, those of you who went to school anyway, there's another BIG question ... a question that always gets asked in that situation. But I haven't asked it ! I've set it up ..... but at the vital moment I backed out of actually writing it. If you want to do it anyway, by all means feel free to do so. And if not, then don't .... just let it pass by. This afternoon I suddenly noticed that there was a Radio 4 programme on about " Nature." Yes, there it was. I'd missed it ...and the three that had been on Mon, Tue and Wed. It's repeated tonight, and I've set the gubbins to record it at 12:30 am. But the thing is .... that phrase in the blurb up there... " the nature writer's series of poetic vignettes." Oh dear. That signals " soppy crap." Yes, I know I'm pre-judging it .... but it's a 20/1 bet. Here's what's going to be on tomorrow ... you can't wait ... I mean ...greenfinches ? What ? The good news is, you'll be able to catch up on the other three episodes on that "listen again" thingy. Here's what's going to be on them ..... there's everything in there, including ant-smeared bluntlers and a spot of roebuckling to boot. And as for this next one, isn't Colonsay some sort of ventriloquist's trick ? Or some sort of bowel operation ? The good news is .... ....... some things are so bad, they're good. Horribly, teeth-crunchingly good/bad. ..... I'd settle for that. Anyway, I will listen to tonight's one, hopefully, and see. Luckily, here's some fine music to listen to .... Eiffel ... " A tout moment la rue." It's a good question . Especially for a short post like this one. My copy of that excellent book is the tigery-faced one.... and the best one I reckon. But really, what I want you to do is to answer it for yourselves. Why, in your opinion, are Big Fierce Animals rare ? And here's a bit of Einstürzende Neubauten.... Ich warte mit geschlossenen Augen warte auf den Morgen Ich warte auf die Putzkraft die soll den Blumenmüll entsorgen Ich warte auf die Kellnerin hab Monde mir bestellt ... Ich warte durch die ganze Zeitung bis es Zeit ist für die Welt Ich warte mit dem Kugelschreiber auf den Einfall der Ideen Ich warte warte warte weiter bis es Zeit ist zurückzugehen Ich warte in den Zwischenräumen vorgeblich ungeschützt Ich warte auf die neue Sprache die die mir dann nützt Ich warte auf die Dopamine die innerlich versprochen sind Ich warte auf die Vorstellung dass der Film endlich beginnt Ich warte vor dem Automaten warte auf mein Geld Ich warte bis ein Stückchen Weltraumschrott direkt vor meine Füsse fällt Ich warte taste schwarze Tasten weil Weiss bisher nur irrt Ich warte warte warte weiter warte unbeirrt Ich warte auf Katzengangeslärm Ich warte auf Fischessang Ich warte auf den einen grossen unbeherrschten Klang Ich warte auf die dunklen Massen zwischen den Sternen noch unentdeckt Ich warte auf die Untertassen von den Nazis in den Anden versteckt Ich warte am Rand der Welt an dem es selbst Atomen schwindelt Ich warte direkt am schwarzen Loch Ich warte warte immernoch Ich warte unverdrossen Ich warte auf meiner Eisbergspitze am Ende der Physik auf Novemberhitze und auf Dinge dies nicht gibt Ich warte warte immer weiter letztendlich auf Musik Ich warte auf die eine die ihren Namen wohl verdient immer da war immer recht hat auf die eine die die Sonne ausgräbt das Gesetz der Gräber aufhebt Ich warte auf die die taktlos erntet honigtriefend barfuss tanzend ohne Hemmschuh die Ton für Ton der Starre entkommt die jedem auf Anhieb bekannt vorkommt Ich warte bis sie Türen Tore Schleusen öffnet bis sie wolkenbrechend - Weckruf Fanfare - überraschend aus dem Hinterhalt sich stürzt Ich hoffe sie zettelt eine Hymne an Ich warte bis es nichts mehr zu warten gibt das Leben ist kein Irrtum, kein Irrtum und Musik Ich warte Ich warte immernoch.
Now you've worked out why big fierce animals are rare, you don't need to buy the book. And NOT having to read it has also saved you lots of time . Win-win. If you can't work out why, I've written about it in the future ...here's the link .. 973-further-thoughts-about-those-ten-rarest-birds-in-the-world.html If you don't know what book I'm on about, see previous post .... ..the thing is, I noticed for the first time that there is scarcely a single "other person" in the entire book. Naturally, I investigated ... OK ... now, can you spot the "other person" in this short passage ? Yes !! There's a "mystery hand" most likely belonging to " somebody else" in there. Wowsers !!!! Let's see if there's any more in this next bit ... you should now be scouring it for that elusive " other person" ... maybe even "persons" in this case .... Yes, that owl was staring at "us" ... implying there were in fact some others besides " The Millington". Hen's Teeth or what ! Another slide please Susan ..... the "other person" in this one is a bit more "vague" ..... Yes, it's "the elusive ringer" this time ... OK ..last chance saloon .... one more vague reference to the existence of another person actually existing in "The Millingtonian Frame of Reference" as we have learned to call it. Oh yes, that "we" speaks volumes to the "person-starved" reader. It is truly " manna from heaven." Not only that ... those " accounts of the Sardinian Warbler" must have come from somebody ... cripes. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Now, dear readers .... I can't do everything. I've scoured the blasted book for those "other people" with no further success ... can you find some more ? THE WORLD NEEDS TO KNOW. The thing is, there's lots of other birding books that are crammed with people. Millikins, apart from a brief mention in the introduction, doesn't name even one of the finders of all these rarities, nor does he name the grapeviners who pass on this information, nor his presumed travelling companions ... it is all very lonely. In sharp contrast to Pete Dunne's various books, Stuart Winter's books, the brilliant but rare " "British Birding 1984", The Big Bird Race, Kingbird Highway and many more in the same vein. ...and Ted even includes a picture of all his mates ... beautifully drawn by Bill Morton. That's The Way To Do It ! I suggest this new field of research should be called "Bird-Spotter-Spotting" Yes, it could get a bit recursive, but I don't care. And here's a totally unrelated song for you " Nobody Else Will Be There." You said "we're not so tied together" What did you mean? Meet me in the stairwell in a second For a glass of gin Nobody else will be there then Nobody else will be there Nobody else will be there then Nobody else will be there Can you remind me the building you live in I'm on my way It's getting cold again but New York's gorgeous It's a subway day Nobody else will be there then Nobody else will be there Nobody else will be there then Nobody else will be there Why are we still out here? Holding our coats We look like children Goodbyes always take us half an hour Can't we just go home? Hey baby, where were you back then? When I needed your hand I thought that when I stuck my neck out I'd get you out of your shell My faith is sick and my skin is thin as ever I need you alone Goodbyes always take us half an hour Can't we just go home? Nobody else will be there then Nobody else will be there Nobody else will be there then Nobody else will be there.
That title's not fair ..... but I couldn't resist it ! It's a good book really ... for its time. That's Richard Millington's lavishly-illustrated account of a year (1980) of twitching . When it came out in 1981 there weren't many books like that.... in those days "the birdwatching fraternity " ( ho-ho) was to a certain extent anti-twitching..... and twitchers were not regarded, in the main .. as "proper" birders. And now there are loads ... so I think it suffers by comparison. I know I very much enjoyed reading ( and re-reading) it at the time, especially as I was going to Norfolk most summers and found the information about birding sites very helpful. And all us low-listers could walk past his house as we staggered past under the weight of our hefty scopes. The illustrations have also not stood the test of time well.... by modern standards they are rather formal ..... in my humble opinion. Beautifully executed ...... but a trifle static. When you compare it to, say, "The Big Bird Race" it looks very formal and dry. But others could well say ... TBBR is too "matey" and "frivolous" ... fair enough. Another thing about it is a distinct lack of "other birders" ..... obviously they were much thinner on the ground back then, but most of the accounts are devoid of anybody else. So to a modern reader it all seems rather underpopulated. And on that note, let's have the music ...Nine Inch Nails ... Where is everybody ? After writing that, I thought some more about the "lack of other people" in the book. Is it true ?
I'm sure that when I first read it I didn't notice that at all ... so I'm going to "look into it" as they say. .... see you next time. With all the facts. Here's the first bit of an essay by one of the UK's finest humorists, Paul Jennings. It's from his excellent collection of strange tales, "The Jenguin Pennings." THE BIRDS THAT NEVER WERT When I learnt at school about the Roman augurs basing state decisions on the flight of birds I used to think this was a pretty fey idea for such a practical. bridge-building sort of people. But the more I look at birds the more I see what the Romans meant. Of all non-human creations, the birds give the most powerful impression of being up to something, of knowing something. In their quick, giggling,hopping, jerking, twitching,twittering way they seem to have a direct, intuitive contact with the secret of life. We have to get there by careful and disciplined thought, we have to wrestle with time - and even then we can't be sure of that sudden liberation, that sudden flash of truth and ecstasy; we can't make it happen. But birds live there all the time. " Quick, quick, said the bird." Birds are not single, either. They know whatever it is they know together. They are not allowed to tell us ( unless we are in the St. Francis class) , but they know about us too, they swoop mimbling and tweaking at us, turning away in a perfect swift curve, with a hint of a message for us ; but it is too quick. Of course, they don't know it all, they just know the part we don't know, and vice versa; the ones who know everything are a combination of man and bird - the angels. Birds and men live in two parallel real worlds, and they, in their skittering, indirect way, are just as interested in the point where these two worlds meet as we are. In towns they reflect our organisation; starlings form themselves into vast urban regiments, pigeon housewives go shopping. In the country they adopt a casual, rural attitude.They come into my garden for drinks in the evening; many of them live in my house, in the roof, I can hear them stamping about in the roof. Birds I have never seen before - birds made of check tweed, of silk, birds with beards, big brown birds like bookmakers, come and surprise my ignorance. I know this is not just a subjective reaction, because I have just bought The Observer's Book of Birds ( not the Observer, it's published by Frederick Warne, and jolly good too). This book is by a serious bird expert, Mr. S. Vere Benson, who knows about things like the Little Stint, the Knot, the Brambling the Siskin. And the picture of bird life that emerges is even closer to ours than I had imagined. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ That's the first half .... more will be along later. Quite how much later, I've no idea. Here's another song from Noir Désir spun out of nothing... " Bouquet de nerfs " Journée de la pleine lune
Au sommet de la dune A caresser de loin ton chien T'oublies or not t'oublies Les ombres d'opalines au rendez-vous suivant, j'attends Au fond d'une autre limousine Qui ne vaut pas plus cher Que ce bouquet de nerfs A frôler la calanche Les étendues salines A perte de vue on s'imagine en Chine Trompe la mort et tais-toi Trois petits tours et puis s'en va J'opère tes amygdales Labyrinthiques, que dalle Ne m'est plus rien égal Je sais je n'ai offert que des bouquets de nerfs Rubis de Sade et jade, déjà je dis non Diamant, c'est éternel Des fleurs, des bouts du ciel immense La liste des parfums capiteux Capitalistes c'est bien bien Mais olfacultatif Liste en boule, au panier Finalement j'ai offert quelques bouquets de nerfs Agendas donnez-moi De vos dates à damner Tous les bouddhas du monde Et la Guadalupe S'il arrive qu'un anglais Vienne me visiter Dans la métempsychose Je saurai recevoir je peux lui en faire voir de la sérénité Et même lui laisser un certain goût de fer Et ce bouquet de nerfs I was dead choughed to spot that number plate with AUK on it ! .... especially as AUK is the "ghost" of MANDARIN DUCK ! ...because if some of the letters blew away, AUK could be left behind. ..... that's what a "ghost" is. What's left after letters have blown away. ... but ... are there any "non-duck" UK birds that AUK is the ghost of ? [Yes] ..... because, let's face it, ducks are too easy as far as AUK is concerned ! I'll tell you one of them free of charge ..... BIMACULATED LARK And now lucky you can get up and look for all the others. No ducks mind ! If you are really truly keen, there's actually yonks of foreign ones too !. Here's Al Lewis and Sarah Howells ... "Arsonist" ..lovely stuff. Exactly 11 years ago today, I "got" a fine White-spotted Bluethroat in Sedburgh. " But I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now." Spot the duck ! I was a bit baffled as to what that duck was doing this morning. Have you got any theories? I mean, ducks were NOT designed to perch on hedges. Go on, have a think. A long thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnkkk. And having thunked, what about that Kingfisher eh ? What indeed ! But the big recent news is that last night, 22:43 to be precise, a male Tawny Owl was calling really close to the house. But not only that.... after a minute or two, a female started to call as well. That's the first time there's been two calling together for over a year. Well, the first I've heard from t'ouse anyway. Good news. OK then ... my initial "DuckOnHedge" theory was that it was looking for its young ..... but there weren't any. None of the mallards there have any chicks yet,as far as I know. But the "probable correct answer" was revealed when I came back 20 mins later on the return leg of the dog walk ..... it flew up and away ... and as it did so, a male sprung up out of the garden behind the hedge and pursued it out of sight. I strongly suspect it was one of those "sex pests mallards" we hear so much about lately.Male mallards are so amorous that they sometimes actually drown the female they are pursuing with over-enthusiastic er, thingying. And I suspect that female was trying to get rid of him. Here's another amazing thing for you to think about. How long is the penis of the male mallard ? You might be surprised. Maybe even "amazed." Well worth " looking up"..... ...which is a smashing intro to a song I've played quite a bit on here ... and why not .....? This one has a different, rather beautiful video....mind you, the song does have a deep flaw within it ..... here we go ... " Passenger Seat." Can you believe that some people have "disliked" that song. Seriously ? On the other hand, I'm sure many of you will be longing to embed that song deep in your memory ... so here's your big chance to learn the words.... Here's another quick thing for you ..... Suppose there's 20,000 Starlings murmurating around in the sky . And let's also assume that exactly half of them are male, and half female. So .... how many would you need to catch to be absolutely drop-dead certain to have one of each ? A pair, in fact. I expect you're all thinking .... " What do I do now ?" Quickly she came, dressed up for fame,
riding her perfume downstairs. make-up like glue, she danced 'round the room, to the sound of the corduroy flares. let's go to town, taxis all round, we could stop for a couple of beers. he looks at it all, stifles a yawn, she tries not to look like she cares. What do i do now? are we going under? what did i do wrong? i thought we had it sorted out the other day maybe i'm just stupid can't we try again? no-one told me it was raining. Can't face a club, they walk to a nearby pub, watch a couple of bands. draining the glass, they walk home at last, reaching for each other's hands. nothing is said, he goes to bed dreaming of her on his own. she stays up all week, watching him sleep, scared that she'll wake up alone. What do i do now? are we going under? what did i do wrong? i thought we had it sorted out the other day maybe i'm just stupid can't we try again? no-one told me it was raining. I'll miss you every day of your life and oh, you'll feel it too, you're not that strong, you know i'm onto you. i'll miss you every day of your life and maybe when you're dead, i'll get some rest, from holding onto you. What do i do now? are we going under? what did i do wrong? i thought we had it sorted is there someone else? or am i too familiar? was it when i said i wanted to have children? tore up all your photos, didn't feel too clever, spent the whole of sunday sticking you together. now i'd like to call you, but i feel too awkward. some things need explaining, no-one told me it was raining. Oh .. I almost forgot ...here's question 2 about that Starling flock. Suppose instead of wanting a male/female pair, you wanted 2 the same instead . ...... so now you want to have 2 males, or two females. Two the same How many would you have to catch to be sure of having two of the same sex ? |
AuthorThat's the author up there ... I was young and sprightly then. Archives
October 2022
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