Monday, May 13, 2013

Places I've Been

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Where I’ve been lately—

Out on a Limb

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Backyard birding affords an excellent opportunity to make close observation of the behavior and habits of individual birds. Yes, it’s sometimes possible to distinguish individual birds, tell them apart from others of the same species, as I’ve written here:
http://quodlibet-sarah.blogspot.com/2011/09/in-neighborhood.html

One of the things I like to observe is how the birds use the trees and other natural features, in particular a certain dead elm next to our deck. Our suet feeders are on the elm stub, and the few remaining branches (left there at my request) stretch toward the seed feeders. The bare branches are useful to the birds as places to alight prior to going to the feeders, and one or two at a time, they often perch there for a few moments until a place opens up on a feeder, providing me with good opportunities to catch quick photos. It's such a privilege to see these beautiful creatures up close:

Friday, May 10, 2013

“In societies where nature is held sacred, rape occurs only rarely”

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…As far as human societies are concerned, anthropologists have long documented differences in the extent of sexual coercion in different human societies.

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Martin Creed: Work No. 1367

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Martin Creed — Work No. 1367 (2012) — Watercolor on paper

Via And Set My Teeth in the Silver of the Moon


 

Monday, May 6, 2013

“All that a man has to do”

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All that a man has to say or do that can possibly concern mankind, is in some shape or other to tell the story of his love,—to sing; and, if he is fortunate and keeps alive, he will be forever in love.
—From the Journal of Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862), May 6, 1854.

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

“To see at last what held the darkness up”

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How rare it is to find an artistic expression — poem, painting, or play — that expresses one's own perspective, one's own longings, one's own sadnesses.

“Spring, the sweet spring”


Spring, the sweet spring

Thomas Nashe 1567–1601

Spring, the sweet spring, is the year’s pleasant king,
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing:
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-wit, ta-woo!