Flamingo Friday Alphabet: Queues

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

A Bird in the Bush

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

Flamingo Friday - "Why Do We ALWAYS Have to Have Christmas Dinner at Your Sister's??"

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

WILD Not-So-Wildlife!

On a walk through our town-immediately-outside-of-DC neighborhood this weekend, what should Annie, Earnestine, and I see on our walk but chickens!

And not just a solitary chicken, no, but five chickens, strutting about an entirely unfenced front yard and eyeing us with some serious suspicion. (My camera’s shutter clicking might have had something to do with it too.)

[”Do they suspect, Helga?”
“How could they, Aethelfled?
“Everything has gone according to plan…”]

I was surprised by their feral state: there they were, just strolling around (well, their movements were a little too jerky for strolling, but you get the idea), with no coop to contain them and their devious schemes.

Is this typical for chicken ownership? I mean, I know the whole urban/suburban-chicken movement is a big thing now, but I would think that the dangers of predation and/or chicken runaways would necessitate some kind of fencing. Unless…can one train chickens to stay put—and to defend themselves?

Were these perhaps ninja chickens?

Think on that, friends. Think…on that.

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

Flamingo Friday: Horns

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

Some Days Are Less Beastly Than Others

Which is soooo true, but in this case I’m referring to the fact that I walked all the way to work Monday morning in beautiful post-rain, foggy weather, without seeing a single beast beyond a couple of surprisingly elusive squirrels.

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

Is It Just Me...

Or do these pigeons look especially purposeful? As if, for example, they are making or have made some sort of sinister avian scheme that is about to come to fruition?

I had to almost get down among them in order to take the photo, and…I’m not sure, but I believe that may have been part of their larger plan…

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

Flamingo Friday: Highs and Lows

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

Somewhat Overwhelmed

And out of town for work, so I'm afraid I can't provide much in the way of posting beyond an illustration of my current feelings.

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

Flamingo Friday: A Quiet Breakfast

And as an update, you can now purchase--in addition to the all-beasts or all-flamingos calendars--a "No More Charismatic Megafauna!" calendar. Refuse to bow to convention, and get all your friends and relatives a calendar replete with winsome invertebrates, amphibians, and reptiles!

"No More Charismatic Megafauna!" - calendar by O_Ambrogio

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

‘Tis the Season

For me to promote Beasts in a Populous City Calendars—with all-new photos for an all-new year!

You can get either the all-beasts calendar:

Beasts in a Populous City - calendar by O_Ambrogio

Or the exclusively-flamingos calendar:

Every Day is Flamingo Friday - calendar by O_Ambrogio

And stay tuned for an upcoming “No More Charismatic Megafauana!” calendar for those of you tired of big pretty mammals.

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

Adaptations

Not sure why this has been on my mind lately, but I've been thinking about the excellent stories written by people like Jack London (Call of the Wild and White Fang) and Virginia Woolf (Flush) that present life from the perspective of dogs and wolves.

I’m sure if I spent a few minutes I could think of more examples of fiction, or even creative nonfiction, that describes the world and the story through the eyes of some non-human animal—in a way that seems accurate, mind you: much as I love Watership Down, it would not be included in this category.

I love those sorts of stories, when they’re done well and feel authentic—and maybe it’s because of that that I find film versions of such books to be such a bad idea. After all, it’s hard enough in writing to build this different consciousness and yet remain as true as you can be to the animal’s nature—how can you do that in a movie? Either you anthropomorphize like crazy and have the animals talking, with those awful digitized “lip” movements, or you make a silent movie that loses all of the narrative power and is probably less effecting and affecting than a documentary.

So I ask you: is there a good way to show the (as far as we know) authentic lives of non-human animals in film? Are documentaries the way to go, or do they leave much to be desired as well?

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

Flamingo Friday: Neck and Neck

Sorry for the extremely late Flamingo Friday post, but I've been distracted by a new member of the family, the lovely not-so-wild-life Earnestine:

--And can you blame me?

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

The Hitchhiker’s Guide Was Right

Towels are of the utmost importance, as evidenced by the following: Elderly owl rescued in Fairfax County

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

Cue the Charles Gounod

A house sparrow in the sun or the silhouette introducing Alfred Hitchcock Presents?

You tell me.

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

Don't Say I Never Gave You Anything

["You're so crane,
you probably think
this song is about you..."]

Reaching new levels of amazing animal pun-ship--enjoy this wonderful take on Motown and the Shirelles:

The Marmoset Song

I can only take credit for having discovered this gem. Have a great weekend!

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

Flamingo Friday: What I Could Use More of....

Sleep, gorgeous tangerine and pink feathers--you name it...

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

One Good Shot: Urban Birds

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

Magic Leaves

The starlings continue to gather in their vast murmurations, swirling and soaring and settling over telephone wires and roofs and trees, where they mutter and whistle and whisper to one another.

The sight, and sound, of them is so striking that it once again reminded me of this beautiful and evocative poem by Anca Vlasopolos, who kindly allowed me to re-“print” it here:

Starlings

You would think, pieces of soot, burnt
pages of journals, banned books, suddenly
come to life, rising in this wild March wind
like ghosts screeching in a forbidden language.
Twilight breaks up into these glimpses
of deepest night. Then, just as sudden,
obeying a call to order none of us can hear
they cluster, leaves on macabre trees
of an illustrated gothic, magic leaves
that sing in the coming dark.

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures unless otherwise specified. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

En Surpris

Perhaps one of my favorite things about research and animal care (and by favorite I mean “things that are fun to think about when you’re no longer doing them”) is the way that your charges can surprise you.

In the case of my marine snails, this was usually achieved by their attempted suicides. Every couple of days they would crawl above the water line in their tanks and sit there, gripping the glass, waiting to desiccate, until I shoved them back into the water, issuing encouraging phrases like, “You have everything to live for!” and “Think of your friends!”

This isn’t really the same thing—it’s even better—for, within this article:

National Zoo welcomes first tentacled snakes born in 11 years

—Is this line: “Eight tentacled snakes were born at the Smithsonian’s National Zoo last month, surprising zookeepers who had spent four years trying to breed the reptile.”

And I ask you, all you researchers out there: isn’t that always the way?

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

Flamingo Friday: One Eye Open

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

Since it’s Still Fall

…And since I’m writing this Tuesday night while trying not to fixate on the elections… A seasonal haiku:

Sugar Maple In Autumn

A few sparks caught just
the one branch, and it started
up: slowly at first.

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

Don't Frog-et to Vote!

What Happened

I’m sure most of you have already read or heard about the horrible incident at the Pittsburgh Zoo, where a poor little boy died after he fell into the wild-dog enclosure and was mauled.

The zoo exhibit was found to meet all required safety standards; nonetheless, any number of people have apparently already vented their opinions online, condemning the zoo or condemning the mother, who held her son over the railing at the exhibit.

It seems extraordinarily insensitive and cruel, not to mention inaccurate, to accuse a parent during one of these cases—after all, I’ve seen tons of people hold their kids on or over railings that they shouldn’t at the zoo—and, it’s true, they shouldn’t do that, and probably more people will think twice now about doing so—but I’ve seen tons of kids not get hurt by this. Not a good practice, but surely not the time or place to blame an individual parent who has suffered such a devastating loss.

What this did make me think of, though, is what I’ve mentioned before when describing one of my concerns about zoos: that they make us, the observers, feel entitled—to be entertained by the animals, to get to see them as close up as we want to, and to be safe from them. And of course we do expect that—we’re not on safari or traveling in the wilds. But I think we become lulled into a too strong sense of complacency sometimes.

I’m not saying that this happened in this particular case—I don’t know anything about this beyond what I’ve read. But the incident did make that concern come to mind. And it makes me sad, too, because all of the good work that zoos do to convince the public not to revile various predators—I’m sure much of that has been undone too.

My heart goes out to the family of that little boy. And I also hope this won’t have negative repercussions for the zoo, provided that it was applying every safety measure it could.

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

Ghostly

First there’s nothing but the dim blue water, lanced with beams of sun. And then, faintly, as if formed from the currents, she glides towards you, limned with light.

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

Even Crustaceans Can Have Identity Crises

[Photo credit: the New England Aquarium]

…Or maybe they just want a hint of color. Either way, this rare two-colored lobster is quite an impressive sight. Read more about it on the New England Aquarium’s site.

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures--unless otherwise specified. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

Flamingo Friday: Showing a Preen Again...

Never wanted to;
What am I to do?
Caaaahn’t help it…

[With many apologies to Marlene Dietrich.]

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

Nothing says Halloween like a Pumpkin Stuffed with Squid

I haven’t had a chance to visit the zoo lately, but there’s a great photo album on their Facebook page of the denizens of the American Trail—wolves, otters, ravens, seals, and sea lions—inspecting jack-o-lanterns filled with each species’ favorite treats.

Happy Halloween!

A little holiday magic courtesy of ctenophore cilia. Just a reminder that none of the supernatural creatures we pathetic humans can imagine ever comes close to the wonderful weirdness of the natural world!

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

Sky Riding

Each fall, starlings come together in vast, fast-moving clouds of wings and warbling—huge flocks called “murmurations” that billow and wheel through the sky. Each fall, hundreds or thousands of birds rise and turn and bank in a non-quite unison that’s more magical than perfect synchronicity could be, as it makes the shapes of their flocks expand and contract like fireworks or plumes of smoke.

Much of what’s marvelous about these murmurations is watching them in action, but I still (of course) took pictures.

The flocks I saw on my way home from work were smaller—more like murmurs than murmurations, so the effect is somewhat lessened—but the sight of them rising from a tree-top as if the oak's crown had suddenly flown off was magnificent.

The mechanics of starlings’ flight flocks is not entirely understood, although some fascinating studies have been done on the topic by European researchers on starlings in Rome (home of enormous murmurations). Among the discoveries were that individual starlings only pay attention and respond to the movements of six or seven of their nearest neighbors, causing changing in flight direction to ”ripple…through flocks.”

The reasons for this flocking behavior—in other species as well as starlings—are not entirely known, although predator avoidance does appear to play a part. Although it’s ever-so-unscientific, I can’t help but think that pure exuberance must also play a part, since speeding through the skies among a rustling, whistling contingent of your fellows must be a lot of fun.

Certainly it’s attracted the attention of poets, including Richard Wilbur (“An Event”) and Anca Vlasopolos (“Starlings”)—and no doubt others as well (if you know of any other passages or poems on starlings, please let me know).

For me they’re one of the best manifestations of fall: eerie and fantastical and exhilarating and ephemeral—a mystery and delight to scientists and non-scientists alike.

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}

Not-so-wild-life: Portraits of Residents of a Pumpkin Farm

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}