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Posts Tagged ‘birds’

Postage-Stamp-Cardinal

Scan-1927-O-Cedar-Ad-16045246I assume you can sort this out.  If it was a rebus, I guess my message would be “Spring Cleaning is for the Birds”?  Maybe?  It’s a lovely day.  [Well, outside children are screaming, but that’s just the nursery school at recess]

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OwlFrieze1

This week I had a conference to attend, so I got to spend some time in a city center I don’t normally get to visit on foot.  Even better, the weather was splendid and the afternoon light was hitting the scenery just right for clear photography.

The frieze on one building alternated these owls with what I had initially thought were slightly different owls, but I think they are really bat-like creatures… Although I’m not sure why the designers wouldn’t have also alternated the wing styles when they switched out the heads.  You end up with odd cat-bat-bird critters.  While they are fine cat-bat-bird critters, I decided my example here could do with a bit of distortion correction, since the frieze is up a goodly number of stories from the ground:

BatFrieze2Despite putting bird wings with the mammalian face, that’s somehow less strange than the change in the opposite direction:  the scale of the eyes on the bat-creatures is better than the scale of the eyes on the owls.  Look up there again: tiny little eyes on the owls!  It’s as if X the Owl got into Henrietta’s secret batch of special brownies, if you know what I mean…

The bats know for sure, but they aren’t telling.

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Courtesy of Google image search; all photo copyrights assuredly belong to other people. The wrens are suspicious of this whole arrangement.

Wrens are not especially subtle about their curiousity.  They want to know, they want you to know that they want to know, and, further, they want you to know that they think you are holding out on them.

Other birds certainly make commentary — the catbird would like to know why, the robins are quite interested in the grubs and other things that creepeth and crawleth in the wake of a gardener’s efforts, and the titmice are engaged in loud and fluttery debates over who is the Greyest, who is the Fluffiest, who is the very Finest, Flappiest, Screechiest titmouse of them all?

Wrens may want to announce news — their presence, their beautiful nestlings that you should admire and acclaim but NOT look at — and they will go on with territorial songs for hours.  But — and maybe this has something to do with the times of year I see them, or the melancholy that sometimes coincides — it strikes me that they also want to be remembered at some indeterminate time in the future.  As if, and this is ridiculous, as there are (as far as I know) no heirloom maps I need translated at midnight, nor mountain treasures to unlock, they think they might be useful to me somewhere down the line.

“We are wrens. We are legion.  Remember us now and in your time of trial…”

On the other hand, they do like knowing, much as I do.  Maybe at some point we will have something more detailed to say to each other…

This image of wrens is my responsibility. The wrens are not convinced I have taken that seriously enough….

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of Robin Fight Club is

….there is no Robin Fight Club.

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