#birds

I consider myself to have been the bridge between the shotgun and the binoculars in bird watching. Before I came along, the primary way to observe birds was to shoot them and stuff them. ↗

— Roger Tory Peterson

#along #been #before #between #binoculars

Women and birds are able to see without turning their heads, and that is indeed a necessary provision for they are both surrounded by enemies. ↗

— James Stephens

#birds #both #heads #indeed #necessary

Planting native species in our gardens and communities is increasingly important, because indigenous insects, birds and wildlife rely on them. Over thousands, and sometimes millions, of years they have co-evolved to live in local climate and soil conditions. ↗

— David Suzuki

#birds #climate #communities #conditions #gardens

Everyone likes birds. What wild creature is more accessible to our eyes and ears, as close to us and everyone in the world, as universal as a bird? ↗

— David Attenborough

#bird #birds #close #creature #ears

In her dance, she controlled the bright paper birds with invisible wires and threads. She played the human: heavy, tied to earth. Her dances weren't pretty or delightful, but they were magical, [...] They called her a dancer and a puppeteer and an artist. They might have called her a witch, and not the good kind either. ↗

— Katherine Catmull

#birds #dances #dancing #human #magic

Two turtle doves will show thee Where my cold ashes lie And sadly murmuring tell thee How in tears I did die ↗

— Nikolai Gogol

#crying #dead-souls #death #doves #loneliness

A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing in the orange suns rays and dares to claim the sky. But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage can seldom see through his bars of rage his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing. The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom. The free bird thinks of another breeze and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn and he names the sky his own. But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing. The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom. ↗

— Maya Angelou

#cage #freedom #poetry #dreams

Here is the soundless cypress on the lawn: It listens, listens. Taller trees beyond Listen. The moon at the unruffled pond Stares. And you sing, you sing. That star-enchanted song falls through the air From lawn to lawn down terraces of sound, Darts in white arrows on the shadowed ground; And all the night you sing. My dreams are flowers to which you are a bee As all night long I listen, and my brain Receives your song, then loses it again In moonlight on the lawn. Now is your voice a marble high and white, Then like a mist on fields of paradise, Now is a raging fire, then is like ice, Then breaks, and it is dawn. ↗

— Harold Monro

#nightingales #song #dreams

He regarded Huginn as only slightly more dangerous than most pets, in that he understood why people had pets but harbored the paranoia they would one day eat their owners. True, it kept Eliot from even having a pet larger than his fist, but it also kept him from being kibble. ↗

— Thomm Quackenbush

#cats #dogs #paranoia #pets #dreams

The moment a little boy is concerned with which is a jay and which is a sparrow, he can no longer see the birds or hear them sing. ↗

— Eric Berne

#birds #boy #concerned #hear #jay