BIRD(S) ON A WIRE

I know I've used this image before.  Not this exact one.  I just snapped this one today.  But a similar one.  Or maybe even "ones".  I may keep returning to this theme.  It's just that a flock of birds . . and they're not all the same kind . . gathered on wires like this just fascinates me.

When I was a little kid, there was a big tree in an alley about a half a block from my home.  It was called "the Big Tree."  I don't remember what kind of tree it was but it was huge and was easily climbed by a young squiggler such as myself.  I could get high in the tree and not be seen from the ground because of the leaves.  And there were places where the branches formed hollows and resting places, where I could lie back and contemplate the universe.  Or maybe the hurts and insults I had been dealt on any given day.  It was my hiding place.  I can remember that there were some wires that ran through the very top of the tree.  Probably telephone wires.  But I can remember one particularly dark day when I climbed to where I could easily reach those wires and I leaned forward and took one of them into my mouth.  I had no idea what would happen.  I assumed maybe instant death.

That must have been a particularly dark day.  But what happened?  Nothing.  I think there was only about a voltage of 9 volts in those wires and low amperage.  Had they been electrical wires, I think I would have had to have instant contact with two of them at the same exact instant to do any harm.

Who knows why kids in their moments of despair . . now long forgotten . . do the things they do?

Well.  I know this.  This photo I took today and these dark thoughts gave me a reason to introduce the great K.D. Lang in a bravura performance.  Bird On A Wire.



DINING OUT

The subject of today's blog is the avian world and its members search for a good meal.

Sometimes that involves a bit of disagreement over whose meal is whose.

It seems this struggle goes on with smaller birds, as well, though perhaps a bit less strenuously.

Some of our colorful friends prefer to be fed directly by the chef, though this fellow seems to be considering the daily fare with some skepticism.

And always, in the bird world as in the human universe, there are the gourmets, who gaze on their impending meal with a curious eye and an imperious attitude.  Even a piece of cheese can be dissected for provenance, for appearance, for aroma before the ultimate test, taste.

I hasten to add that I took none of the preceding photographs and I know nothing of their creators.  As I said yesterday, they came in an e-mail, the modern way of receiving something "over the transom."