Here's a moth I found in the house four days ago. Author's note ... although this is about a moth, it will, of course, be relevant to the toil and struggle all us birders strive to overcome every day. "Author !" ... I like the sound of that. Moving on ... Oo ! , I thought, that's very distinctive, I'll have no problem finding out what it is, so I'll just take a quick photo of it and let it go ... so I did. But, but .... I still don't know what it is. I've scoured all the plates in "Skinner", the moth-person's bible, but I can't find it. I'm irked. I was a twit ... an overconfident, jumped-up twerp. The only moth it looked even remotely like was " The Streamer", but that is over and done with by the beginning of May, so it's not really in the frame. Grrrr. And it wasn't a close enough match anyway. I bet if the moth was watching my crappy attempts to work out what it was, it would be thinking to itself ... " ... that's not my name !!" That's Skinner up there ... and it's full of lovely plates like those down there .... Surely I've missed something somewhere .... in my time, such as it is, I've i/d-ed thousands of moths, I must have spent hundreds of hours poring over those plates . I said I was irked ..and I am. But in the whole scheme of things, it's not actually important. Unless, of course, it turns out to be some African contraption full of Ebola viruses and we'll all be lying on the floor bleeding to death in a month's time. Oh well .... that's how it goes sometimes. As that bloke said in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy when he was told that the Earth was about to be destroyed by an alien spacecraft ..... "lucky escape for Arsenal". BUT .... that's what I wrote last night ! And after I wrote it, I thought .... just a minute .... I have " missed something" ...maybe it's a Pyralid.... I've got a book about them.... what a surprise ... and I dug it out ... and found this ... woo ! That is a Pyralid ... the Meal Moth, Pyralis farinalis. Here's the facts. We like facts. Meal Moth Pyralis farinalis(Linnaeus, 1758) Wingspan 18-30 mm. The larvae of this colourful moth feed on stored grain, and the species is found mainly in barns, warehouses, and other grainstores. The adults, which fly from June to August, rest characteristically with the tip of the abdomen curved up at right-angles to the body. It is widespread throughout Britain, but not commonly found outside its chosen habitat. ... so, it fits... the only thing that's not quite right is this thing about the upturned abdomen, which my specimen didn't have. But come on ... that's what it is. So ... suddenly I felt right again ... no longer that overconfident twit/twerp, no Ebola disaster, and also, of course, no Lucky Escape For Arsenal. Is there a lesson to be learned from all this ? Never give up? Keep right on till the end of the road ? Leave no stone unturned ? You have to fail 100 times to succeed once ? Probably not. This might be an appropriate song .... The Ting Tings ... "That's not my name" ... a spirited rendition ... Obviously, you're going to want to sing along ...so here's your big chance ...
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This is the first chunk of a short series of extracts from an article called "London Birds." It was quite a few pages long, so I've selected bits ... Have a read of this first bit ..... and have a guess at when it was written .... ...... now I've jumped on a bit .... this section is about Jackdaws and Rooks ... ... as before, see if you can figure out when it was written ... ..sorry about the chunk of overlap .... I thought this bit would be interesting .... and it might make you think some more about its date .... ... here's the last extract .... I suspect this will really change your "date of writing" estimate ... swallows and swifts are the targeted birds in this bit ... I wonder if they nest in those same houses ... Here's a beautiful bit of artwork from the same book.... nothing to do with the section you've been reading, obviously ... Well, what do you make of it ? Age-wise. I'll be showing you shortly .... after the music section. Appropriately for us birders, we having Kate Rusby with " As I roved out" which I did this very day .... As I roved out one fine May morning, To view the meadows and flowers gay, Who should I spy, but my own true lover As she sat by yon willow tree. I took off my hat and I did salute her, I did salute her most courageously. As she turned around, the tears fell from her Saying, False young man, you've deluded me. And the diamond ring I behold I gave to you, A diamond ring to wear on your right hand. But the vows you made, love, you went and broke them And you wed the lassie who has the land If I wed the lassie who has the land, my love, It's that I'll rue 'till the day I die. When misfortune falls, sure the man my shun it. It was my fault, that I'll not deny. And at night when I go to my bed of slumber The thoughts of my love are in my mind. As I turn around to embrace my darling, Instead of gold, sure 'tis brass I find. And I wish the queen would bring home her armies From the West Indies, America and Spain. And every man to his wedded woman Oh in hopes that I might be with thee again ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ What I want to know is, do folk singers only go roving in May ? And do roundabouts always go clockwise ? We need to know. But now, you need to know what that up there was. Well, here you go ... .... more about that at some future time ..... I'm hoping it was a lot older than you thought.
[ I hope I'm not repeating myself here .... I might have put this on before, ages ago.. but I don't think so. I need to make a list of what I've done, otherwise I'll be endlessly repeating myself, which is probably what the entire universe is doing.I hope I'm not repeating myself here... ] Here's a short ( and funny) clip from a " Hulot" film ... but what the hell are those birds singing in the background ? As soon as you get to the actual tennis court, at about 32 seconds, there they are squeaking away in the background. They sound like those squeaky balls that go "squeak" when you tread on them. Grrr. Bear in mind that it's a French film.... even though this clip is subtitled in Spanish. I hope I'm not repeating myself here... Surely some of you out there will know. And/or maybe I'm just showing my ignorance. There's plenty of it. Enough to go round, but round what ? ¡ Empecemos ! ... get started. ¿ So ... any ideas about those squeaky birds ? Here's a bit of music .... it's a hell of a song actually, and a wonderful, kaleidoscopic video, and, some birds..... Joan Osborne ... " One of us " ... what would you ask if you had just one question ? If God had a name what would it be? And would you call it to his face? If you were faced with Him in all His glory What would you ask if you had just one question? And yeah, yeah, God is great Yeah, yeah, God is good And yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah What if God was one of us? Just a slob like one of us Just a stranger on the bus Tryin' to make his way home? If God had a face what would it look like? And would you want to see if, seeing meant That you would have to believe in things like heaven And in Jesus and the saints, and all the prophets? And yeah, yeah, God is great Yeah, yeah, God is good And yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah What if God was one of us? Just a slob like one of us Just a stranger on the bus Tryin' to make his way home? Just tryin' to make his way home Like back up to heaven all alone Nobody callin' on the phone 'Cept for the Pope maybe in Rome And yeah, yeah, God is great Yeah, yeah, God is good And yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah What if God was one of us? Just a slob like one of us Just a stranger on the bus Tryin' to make his way home? Just tryin' to make his way home Like a holy rolling stone Back up to heaven all alone Just tryin' to make his way home Nobody callin' on the phone 'Cept for the Pope maybe in Rome Just as I'm finishing this, there's curlews calling somewhere up there. The curlew has a plaintive call especially just before the Fall don't try to set your watch by it its timekeeping is utter shit It doesn't mind, it doesn't care it has no need for underwear unlike us, who, in wintertime wear it almost all the time we're not designed for cold, that's why but live in it, and then we die .. we should have stayed in Africa where we'd perish much less quica.. And the Significant Otter and me were amazed to see a couple walking their cat earlier in the day ... no lead, nothing ! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This next bit is the "answer" to a task I'm going to set you in the far future ....... ......... sorted .. and where did they come from .... ?
My ancient 1969 copy of "A Field Guide to the Birds of Britain and Europe" ,by the Top Trio of Roger ( Tory) Peterson, Guy ( Fawkes) Mountfort and P.A.D Hollom. Yes, sure enough, yet another book has arrived on my desk in the vague hope that I'll tell you about it, and indeed here I am telling you about it. The first thing that struck me was the title .. " Faraway Birds." No,hang on, the first thing that struck me was the drone that delivered it. Some sort of publicity stunt I suspect ... the drone was a mechanical Gyr Falcon. It broke into a thousand tiny pieces. The drone, not the book. Ah yes, foreign trips, dusky maidens, forays into the jungle, mysterious swamps, desert safaris ... all the wonders of foreign travel. But actually, no. It really is about birds that are, er, far away. Sometimes over a mile away. The book is aimed at those forgetful twerps who are forever forgetting their binoculars, or losing them, or both. Or those idiots who look through them from the wrong end. It's crammed with pictures of every bird on the UK list, but, a long way off. Because without your forgotten bins, that's exactly what they are. And for those of you who have forgotten your scope as well, there's a specially-for-you picture of each species bloody miles off... A long way off. As an example of the format, there's a fine Parula Warbler, deep in the vegetation and about 40 metres away. You can hardly see the stupid thing ... but it's the only view you're going to get, you absent minded old prat. There's a few similar pictures, then a couple for the "no-telescope" numpties which are very very very far away. Many species have several pictures like that .... there's quite a few of various species of geese, some miles away on salt-marshes or fields, some way way up in the air .. reduced to dinky dots. Then there's lots of wader flocks, which, as we all know, are always 743 metres away in a heat-haze... and they're exactly the pictures you get in this groundbreaking tome. But not only that .... for each species, there is a helpful set of id hints and tips for those far-away objects. Priceless. Plus, tucked away in a little pocket at the back there's a CD with all their songs and calls .... all a long long way off of course, let's not forget the mission of the book, pretty faint, but if you are one of the forgetful halfwits we're talking about here, that's exactly what you need. Slipped into the book, there's also a thin folded piece of fluorescent orange card, with " DON'T FORGET YOUR OPTICS, YOU GORMLESS OLD PRAT" written on it in huge black letters ,which folds out out make a giant notice you can stick on the inside of your front door. Probably one of the most useful things in the book I reckon. If you are one of those gormless old prats ... this is the book for you. Here's the Be Good Tanyas with another of their sleepy-dreamy songs .... "A Thousand Tiny Pieces." Just play this one out until it explodes into a thousand tiny pieces What's your story, universe, you are melody in numbers You are shapes, you are rhythms, there are signs that we can learn To place over the heavens, to predict how long we'll burn How long will I last, can I turn up the heat? What star am I circling, what's circling me? Now my ebb and my flow, my lack of control Turning on, turning off Saying yes, but playing no (guitar solo) Things keep changing (instrumental) Just play this one out until it explodes into a thousand tiny pieces What's your story, universe, you are melody in numbers You are shapes, you are rhythms, there are signs that we can learn To place over the heavens, to predict how long we'll burn How long will I last, can I turn up the heat? What star am I circling, what's circling me? Now my ebb and my flow, my lack of control Turning on, turning off
You might not think it's a good idea, but I don't care. But I'm horribly concerned that some of you might not have read them all. I'm not entirely sure that I've read them all. But I did write them..which is probably better. You'll probably be irked to find out that Wavely Newt etc were all actually me. And Geraldine Harkness-Green, and Elspeth Gwendoline Pargeter. I'm a devious old Hector This little verse must be learned by all medical students in their first week of study. It was specially written to be memorable ... for obvious reasons..... From many birds you can catch some horrible diseases Like the deadly Krots which buggers up your arms and kneeses And Lublub, Wems and Nilnud, which slowly rot your crutch Which make you a pariah, and dangerous to touch ! Ekawittik is a nasty one, which you catch from arctic birds You get it off their feathers and it leads to painful turds Whilst Ognimalf, a deadly curse, Does just the same but much much worse. From larger birds you'll get the Yerpso A mix of diarrhoea and lumbago. Have I mentioned Elocnitarp ? It's like being skewered by something sharp Your skin goes scaly, like a carp. While Tooc, carried by many species Causes funny-coloured faeces ! It's obvious what Rotnecca does You only catch it from the dove People think they're very nice, but usually they're plagued by lice. In two days time your head falls off At least it stops that horrid cough. Worst of all, the dreaded Kua Because there isn't one Oh dea. I hope you all noticed the interesting thing about all those "diseases." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This next one is all about the Capercaillie.... Here's another ,in both senses of the word, dreadful chunk of "Noetry" by, er , me. ... but, in its defence, it is all, more or less, true .... I strode the forest, to and fro To track down that enormous "cro" Which is the rampant Capercaillie And which is valued mighty haillie. Meanwhile, he tries to plight his troth And crashes through the undergroth Most of which he then destroys And makes a most alarming noys. He really needs his spouse to conquer And ,therefore, to get to bonquer Without which she will have no young Her offspring , in effect, unsproung And nursery rhymes will not be soung And her bright spirit sorely stoung Then she will weaken, heart and loung Her heartstrings will become unstroung She soon unto her deathbed broung. I tried to tick the Capercaillie But dipped the bloody bird entaillie I blame it on the ecosystem Which meant I never got to lystem ! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This is from post 17 ... it's a feature about crap bird poetry ... not mine of course... Here's two more, they're by the 1920's bird-lover Elspeth Gwendoline Pargeter ( 1892-1931). See the robin on the bough I wonder what he's thinking now In the sky the birds all fly exuberantly, I wonder ... why ? The albatross ..ill-omen'd bird ! He neither sings nor says a word He is as silent as the sea on which he flies, eternally. O feathered friends, I love you so it saddens me when you must go. The little dunnock on its twig why is it not twice as big ? Or twice as small, or half as dull upon these things we all must mull but see ! The gentle kittiwake has eaten all our Christmas cake. See what I mean ... it's cack! Here's another one.. this time by Geraldine Harkness-Green ( 1906-1961) THE GANNET by Geraldine Harkness-Green. It swoops and steers above the wave and cares not for its steely tint it speeds its prey to gloomy grave its eye a thing of doom and glint haddock, mackerel, goby, sprat all shall perish, be sure of that as he dives with gleaming bill in amongst the teeming krill emerging from the surging sea triumphantly, triumphantly it speeds away to Skapa Flow on feathery wing, with eye aglow. ..the actual poem is a lot longer than that, but critics agree that was the best bit. As she honed her craft, she became more and more of a minimalist, and eventually, shortly before her death, the first acknowledged miniminimalist. ( to be truthful, I did actually "wrote" both of them.... just for a bit of fun) This one is about that prediction that just a 1 degree rise in global temperatures could cause a massive rise in sea levels ... I'm looking on the bright side here ... well, somebody's got to ... If only we warmed up a bit Our birding would be ace not shit Trogons, Parakeets and such Would turn our rubbish into much more interesting sorts of birds described in such exciting words Resplendent Quetzal ! White-naped Lory ! Wood-hoopoes in all their glory Mrs. Morden's Scops-Owl too and the Tropical Bou-bou Yellow-mantled Widowbird (That's Euplectes macrocurus) Rarely seen but often heard. Hawks, Broad-winged and Ferruginous would be skimming all aroundous and Ovenbirds and Chuck-wills-widows flying past our kitchen windows whilst the brazen Caracara eats a passing Chachalaca and the local Smooth-billed Ani snoozes in the Frangipani while Bewick's Wrens and Sparrows ( Chipping) slowly in the heat are slipping into their usual midday naps As we, exhausted, then collapse. But then, I think we soon would see It wasn't all it's cracked up to be They produce some crap prediction But we know it's mostly fiction. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Here's a little collection from post 158 of what I called at the time " educational verses." ... judge for yourself... I thought you might like a few educational verses .... after all, the whole point of verse is that it makes things easier to remember, or if you like, harder to forget.... .. and first up ,here's a dinky bit of criticism .... The Blackcap's very interesting But not, I think, when it is nesting A sighting, though, in mid-December We're much more likely to remember. Yes, I think you know what we're getting at there. This next one is about the illogical names of many birds..... The cowbird has neither horn nor hoof Nor udders, which is surely proof That birds are named capriciously By halfwits, most illogically. You all know what I'm talking about there folks . So here's a good way of remembering what bird-namers ought ... and ought not .. to be doing ... Birds should be named by what they do Like the Dipper, Grouse and Loon, The Moa, Skimmer, Swan, Cuck-oo, The Bellbird with its ringing tune. But most are not, e.g. the Gannet Which flies ,widdershins, round fair Annet and the Ptarmigan, which does neither "Pt" nor "arm" nor "igan" either. And what about the Black-winged Stilt Which doesn't "winge" and doesn't "tilt" It "lacks" for nothing, especially "B" Its naming is a travesty. Worst of all, the Cormorant ! It's not a Corm ( a gardener's word) And not an Ant ( the thought's absurd) It's namer must be ignorant !! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This is from post # 39 way back in April. And yes, I'm Dierdre Gosling and Stewart Seward I wrote about this idea of mine that ALL bird poetry is crap a while ago.... and showed you a few examples to prove my point. I asked you lot to find some more, and more have indeed come along .... Nightingales .... by Deirdre Gosling ( 1931 - 1957) Nightingales .. they fill the air with sweet melody, and care not who listens. Nor do they care for display, they hide away faraway. Nightingales .... they fill the night with fleeting notes, and light is their nemesis.... and so when light takes wing they sing . I know not why they please with such sad song. They sing for kings and commoners alike. Unlike the shrike. Some critics have suggested that Gosling ran out of ideas about half way through the middle verse. Her notebooks are apparently full of alternative lines and rather clashing symbolism. In the final analysis, this poem stands by itself, as do we. In complete contrast ,here's a far more "modern" poem .... it's still crap though ! At least you can tell a Seward poem a mile off... and run away sharpish. SKUA by Stewart Seward ( 1988 - ) skua skewer slayer skimmer hacker killer spewer schemer screamer dreamer diver over under rending asunder also auks sdrawkcab drawbacks wardscrab scrawbard rawbard raw bard auks uksa ksau sauk skua. OK ... there's a couple of "clever" bits... the auks/skua reversal bit, but really it's a one-trick pony. Seward wrote a lot of this sort of stuff, but though it caused a sensation at the time, his reputation has dwindled over the years. This one's from the end of July .. post 160 actually ... and it's the first one of those " odd rhymes" poems that I did. Being a terrible big-head, I was very proud of its "shear" silliness .... I used the same idea in that Capercaillie one right up at the top. There's no better bird than the Skua He's much better at flying than ua Mind you, he smells much like a sua Because he's a prolific pua. But he does have a certain allua Even if the reason's obscua. But nowadays there are far fua All because he's not much of a scrua ( He's more of a thinker than adua) But if you want top views of some Skuas When going on long ocean tuas There's nothing so totally truas The need for the best binocluas. But be warned ... there is no known cua For the powerful allua of the Skua ! Unless some entrepenua Invents something to stop it for shua ! Well, dear readers ... I hope you liked that as a 200th hearty-cool, and I'll surely be doing more of "that sort of thing" in future posts. And I hope I live long enough to get to the 300th ... and do another collection like that, but hopefully better, sillier and usefuller. Hey ... usefuller is quite a useful word. Usefuller than "uselesser " for example. And a lot easier to say. Yes ..at last, the book you've always wanted is here, coincidentally just ,er, not many days before Christmas. Well, enough days for us to save up for it. Knowing their track record, it won't be cheap. I got an email about it last night. No picture though. Bah. I might draw a cover for it myself. I'll put it at the top of this. I could sent it to them ... though it might get rejected. Hey.. I could even write a silly poem about it. The usually austere and boring members of the British Birds Rarities Committee have, amazingly, produced a book which gives you all the true lowdown on those rejected rarity sightings which it has , reluctantly (?) had to turn down over the last 744 years. Even more amazingly, that is the actual title . Apparently. And yes, it does tell you, to the best of their ability and knowledge, what exactly made them reject loads of rare birds ... from the sheer gormlessness of the observer(s) ,through muddle-headed wishful thinking, to simply being a bit too hasty with the id, missing out either carelessly or deliberately crucial features, or simply downright fabrication and cheating. It's all there. But ... names aren't named. But of course a lot of us will know who it was ! I'm looking forward very very much to seeing what they have to say about that Unwanted Gimbo I wrote about a while ago .... it will be worth the price of the book by itself ! Here's the link to wot I rote .. 94-the-mysterious-unwanted-gimbo.html Throughout the history of birding there's been cheating of all sorts .... cardboard cutouts ( oh yes) , leaving the madding crowd and seeing the target bird " just behind that tree", buying or importing birds an releasing them, painting ordinary species to turn them into rarities, photographing rarities abroad and then claiming them as UK sightings ... oh, calamity !! Even I've had one rejected record .. I got a nice card from one of the committee letting me down kindly ... but I hope the book isn't full of that sort of thing. We want the rough stuff ! Bring it on. As long as it's not me. Mind you, it might turn out to be fake news, all this ..... who knows. This little article itself might be "rejected" by the BBRC Committee. That would be beautifully "circular" don't you think. You all know how I love an appropriate song ... here's one ... ..and I do believe there have been rarity submissions based on a single feather !!
............... .. washed up on a beach if I remember rightly. A bit "coastal" if you ask me ... teenage slang for " on the edge, a bit dodgy" Mind you, that's a bit "coastal" too, because I just made it up. But now, it might catch on. If you hear your "offspring" using it... Blame me. I can take it. I'm coastal, me. As I mentioned right at the very very end of the previous thingy, I've retrospectively noticed that there were, and are, two posts called #41. This can't be good for Universal Harmony and suchlike, so I'm going to make the 2nd #41 into #198, but it's a right fiddle to move it up here, so I'll just show you the link to it and you can read it if you wish. It's part 1 of my gripping account of a twitch to see a White-Billed Diver. I don't seem to have got around to writing part two. Yet.
Here it is ... post # 198 exists, but in the past... Most weeks The Significant Otter and me trundle along to the Souper-Park-It to get lots of stuff. Tweetabix, Crab-badges, Parrots, Baked Beings,that sort of thing. Except that I don't do any of it ... I bog off to the nearby river and watch birds. I used to take my lovely dog, The Shredder, with me, a fine companion, but she went to the Big Kennel in the Sky a few weeks ago so I'm on my own now. She used to feature on here quite a bit. We miss her a lot. But on to business now ... Well now .. last winter, I noticed something. Yes. Oh-ho. Usually there's 200 + gulls to go through, hoping to get the Occasional Med Gull or better.... and in the winter months there's quite a good number of Common Gulls... so called because, er, they're not especially common. But ... but ... last winter they drastically dropped in numbers. Plus, there weren't many of them. Now this could be a local thing, don't know, could be a national thing, don't know.... all I know is, there used to be good double-figures of the silly things, but all last winter , by my little bit of river, there were only 2 or 3, sometimes none. BUT ... it's a big but ... I never counted them. Any decent birder would dismiss my uncounted,unfounded, un-supported-by-figures opinion as "depressingly anecdotal". And they'd be right. It's a neat phrase, that. I should use it more often. I got it from one of my "line managers" who dismissed most of our complaints as " depressingly anecdotal." What happens is, at first you think the smaller numbers are just a blip, or just late arrival, and by the time you've realised a month or two later that the numbers are staying low, you've missed counting the early numbers. But I wish I had now. I could have drawn a graph, worked out some Haverages, Stranded Devastations, Bra charts, Freak-Whimsy diagrams, terrific. So there's your moral for the day ... but I can't get all high and mighty about it, because I've stopped doing very much counting.... certainly in national and local surveys. But there was ..and is.. a good reason for that ... I know that a lot of not-following-the-protocols goes on, and other types of cheating, in all sorts of ways, and when I found out about it I just wasn't going to bother with it any more. Lots of you have probably read my posts about the things that go on , but here's the links if you haven't... 96-ways-to-cheat-with-bird-survey-1.html 97-another-way-to-cheat-in-bird-surveys.html ... but this winter, I'm going to count those Common Gulls, assuming any at all turn up, and then I'll .... er ..... draw the mentioned-above graphs. I might even do some colouring-in. Hey ..a Buzzard's just flown over the house ... going WSW ...... smashing. I counted it. 1. You have to start somewhere. And now, the music ... Neil Young .. " The Needle and the Damage Done " .. you probably want to sing along ... here's the words video ... I'm posting this a day later , the 26th ... it's National Dog Day today.
Late News ... there's a Stilt Sand and a Red-Necked Phal at Frampton RSPB. Here's the link to a video of them .. maybe they've been there for a while, I've no idea. I've already "got" them both !! In fact, Stilt Sand was one of the first rarities I ever saw. 9/5/84 Newman's Flash. twitter.com/i/status/1032727245624893443 By the way..this is actually the 198th post ... because I've only just noticed that way way back in April there were two posts labelled 41 . Ouch. I'll sort it out .... you'll see. Here's a rarity description ( Black Stork) sent to the committee by one Joris Bohnson. It's fair to say that it's a rather unusual document, but I think you will find it "interesting"...... Well ... phwooooar ! What a corker ! Cripes ! More of a Corker- Sort-er-Stork-er, what ? Big ! I'll say ! Corks ! A right whopper... remember that barmaid at Wynthorpe-Jegger's 21st ? No ... nobody else does either. Talk about whoppers !!! Tell you what ... just between you, me and the butler's mum ..... it was a big-un. Legs !! Miles long !! Stonkers !! Looked a bit like that bit of stuff ... used to clean my rooms at Balliol !! Poop-Poop ! Erk ! Hard to keep things in the old trousers sort of thing. Phwooaaaaar. Ding-Ding-A-ling. Details ! Cripes ??!! Yes, you'll be wanting, er, hang on a minute, what was I on about, wait a sec, got it , yes, no probs, details.... yes... not a "details"sort of bloke really, don't need it in my line of work, whatever, er, whatever it is, hang on , it's coming back to me, er, sort of, reminds me of me old mucker Trentby-Stinker, or was it Stinkby-Trenter, well, one of those, or something, he couldn't remember his own bally name, had a bugger of a time getting home after a bit of a binge down at Jollocks, so did I, come to that, never did find those trousers, but hang on, it was black and, er, white, yes, whatever you do, Joris, don't mention Minstrels, seem to think that might get me in a spot of bother somehow or other, yes, black bits, sure of that, and white,er,other bits, legs ... legs .. they deserve a bit of space on the old page, what, did Stinker-Trentby get his trousers back, no bloody idea actually, moving on, beak, big beak, yes, blimey, what a beak, couldn't help thinking about Beaky Bumface at Balliol, he was always in the Beak's office for something or other, usually the other actually as it happens, now what colour was the beak, wait a sec, it's coming, as the barmaid said to ..hang on, better not do that one, bit near the knuckle, nudge-nudge, Poop-Poop, a blind horse knows no secrets, what, Phooo--aaaaahr !! Corks ! ......................................................................................................................................... sorry, sorry,sorry, nodded off a bit there, Moooooo Moooooo, whose party is it, must slip across the bally room and have a word, no no, hang on, beaks.... red. It was red, yes, hold on, jiggers, the legs were red too ... bloody long as well, I'm telling you, no word of a lie, that Brigitte Barcode or whatever she called herself, Wowsy-Trousers, she had legs. Phwooooaaaar! And the rest, hold on, rhymes with rest, no idea actually, mustn't think about them at the minute, we don't want any more Trouser-Trombone-Trouble, anyway, hold on, you'll need to know what it sounded like, sort of old-gaffer noises, grrrrfff, do it myself during the old rumpy- pumpy, blimey, better cross that out, gasping sort of noise, ooo-er missus, clattery noises too, makes me think of poor old Rupert Crust- Heverington that time he fell off the silly billiard table at the Dorkington, lots of clattering there, rolled him outside onto the pavement I reckon, best thing ... not seen him since actually, now, where was I, or, raaaather, where was it, nearly there, woof-woof, oiks, no bloody clue there, hold on, hold on, lakes, I've got 7 or so on the old shaky-pater's grounds you know, which one, that's the thing, got, it, got it, just a minute, er, one of those, you know old chap, the one where bloody Steggers-Stumpington jumped in starkers ...never seen him since either, odd thing, but that's where it was, up to its legs, grrrr, legs, yes, no, er, hang on, can't be er crumbs quite er right, oourrrhhuuuurhhhhhh..................................................................................... pwwwaaaaaaaaaaar... Unfortunately that's all he managed to get down on paper for some reason or other, but it was enough for the BBRC to come to a decision. And now, music ! And it's LOL again ... "Nadie por las calles " ... La luna de repente nos habló:
"Creced menguantes, me gustaría saber Si esta ciudad tiene más luz. ¿Por qué no hacéis por mí, Fotografías por las esquinas de díos? Y así tendréis mi admiración." Y empezó aquel rumbo incierto, Entre oficinas y cemento. Y un japo, muy caro, muy lleno, Tan solo un opencor abierto. Y el mar se nos bebía al sol, Como a una yema tibia, Fue necesario anular, la oscuridad, Con un buen flash. Y la voz, de edgar allan poe, Surgió entre dos contenedores, Dijo estar harto del mal: "Hazme saber, si hay algo más". Nunca he sido un libro abierto, Pero explico buenos cuentos. Si quieres, ahora que hay tiempo, Empiezo a recitar el nuestro. Y si no hubiera nadie por las calles, Nadie por las calles ¡Qué poco importaría¡ Mira que optimista, que me pongo algunas tardes, Si anochece un poco antes y quedan sombras chinas, Solo tuyas, mías, me va bien. Saltaron sin pensar vallas de seguridad. Era el estreno de una secuela de "cats". Oh, qué dirás, qué dirás, Si pienso que estamos de más. Y él contestó: "¿De dónde sale esa luz? ¿O es que no ves esa luz?". Y la luna nos dio el premio. Y la luna nos dio el premio. E hizo un flash para lo nuestro. E hizo un flash para lo nuestro. Debería, sí, debería ser posible, y sí, Debería ser posible, y sí, debería ser posible. Lo demás, tan solo un cuento. After many years of research, the Blue Tit Molecule has been discovered. The big breakthrough occurred about two years ago when an array of intersecting laser beams was trained upon a skin sample, thus allowing one single Blue Tit Molecule to be "decoded" into its individual components . It took several months after that initial breakthrough to work out the actual structure and connectivity of the whole molecule of course, Amazingly, they have also found that each adult male Blue Tit consists of exactly 338 327 950 288 419 716 939 937 510 582 Blue Tit molecules. And each one of these identical complex molecules contains 187 atoms. It is hoped that this will enable the research team to discover molecules of many other, if not all, species of bird. It will take time, but it is do-able. They are, quite naturally, assuming that these will be basically similar in structure to the BTM , and that the differences in related species will be small, and those differences will become progressively more significant in more distant groups of birds. It is quite possible that new, unexpected changes will have to be made in the classification system if this research continues. This has been a classic piece of " for-the-sake-of-doing-it" science. Nobody really knows if it is ever going to be of any practical "use." It just had to be done. And why not ? But here's the funny thing .... I first wrote a similar thing a good while ago , and I put it on my then birding blog ... the one that totally vanished. The whole blog. Along with my other blogs as well. Grrrrrr. Anyway ...... I wrote it during the midday break at work. I sat there in the communal staff room and tapped away at the keyboard. Just as I was getting to the finish, one of my colleagues looked over my shoulder and read what I had written. This is a rough account of our conversation ... Then she said .... " how did they count all those molecules ?" And I thought, er, what ? And I said to her.. " What molecules ?" "The Blue Tit molecules they've just discovered" she replied, puzzled. Again, I thought for a second or two. Surely she didn't really ......... she didn't really think there were actual .... " They're not really made of Blue Tit molecules " I said. Her reply ... " Well, they ARE made of molecules aren't they ?" Me... " But they're not all the same. They're not "Blue Tit molecules." She " Well what are they then? They're Blue Tits aren't they ?" Me .. " Yes, but the molecules aren't all the same. She ... " Of course they are. .. and so it went on.... she wouldn't have it that it was a joke .... as far as she was concerned, Blue Tits were obviously made of molecules so they must all be Blue Tit molecules. And all the same.Why did they go to the bother of counting them if they weren't ? Well, we got nowhere with that. Worrying, isn't it. It was a bit like that thing I wrote about the Moa not being extinct. Thousands of people read it. Hundreds every day. Why ? My explanation for how it was re-created was absolutely ridiculous. It never occurred to me that people might believe it. That was on the blog that disappeared too .... but I rewrote it for this one. Here's the link ...... 5-the-moa-is-not-extinct.html Right ... enough sillistuff and daftication ... here's the music ... Feu ! Chatterton .... " Souvenir " ..a spot of seawatching methinks ? 1st Rule of life ... those telescopes are always, always, always CRAP. J'aimais ta peau dorée
Toi qui me donnais tout Dans ta main délivrée J'aimais la peau dorée Et maintenant je pleure Ton nom Et maintenant je pleure Ton nom Un oiseau chante je ne sais où C'est, je crois, ton âme qui veille Les mois ont passé, les saisons Mais moi je suis resté le même Qui aime, qui attend Que revienne le printemps Qui aime, qui attend Et reconnaître un jour le printemps Nous ne nous reverrons plus sur Terre Dit le poème le passé vient plus vite qu'on le pense À genoux j'implore ciel et mer, Et ce brin de bruyère Un souvenir pour récompense Quel est cet endroit, où, dans l'ombre confuse Les démons et les anges se mélangent Ah je te rejoins dans cette brume épaisse Que le tabac, le bon joint, obscurcissent Alors je pleure Ton nom Oui je pleure Ton nom Un oiseau chante je ne sais où C'est je crois ton âme qui veille Les mois ont passés comme toujours, les saisons Mais moi je suis resté le même Qui attend Que revienne le printemps Qui aime, qui espère Connaître la fin de l'hiver Nous ne nous reverrons plus sur Terre Dit le poème, le passé vient plus vite qu'on le pense À genoux j'implore ciel et mer, Et ce brin de bruyère Seul souvenir pour récompense Ouais, comme Appolinaire Un souvenir pour récompense Nous regagnerons la confiance Nous regagnerons la confiance Comme une terre ferme Comme une terre ferme À jamais Nous regagnerons la confiance Nous regagnerons la confiance Comme la terre ferme Comme une terre ferme À jamais De l'autre côté, de l'autre côté de la mer Il ne me reste plus rien de toi Que seule ton absence m'appartient On s'est laissé à l'orée de ce bois C'est un joli jardin, je crois C'est un joli jardin, je crois C'est un joli jardin, coloré il se voit, L'orée de ce bois L'orée de ce bois, où l'on s'est laissé |
AuthorThat's the author up there ... I was young and sprightly then. Archives
October 2022
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