Busy days for Mr Blackbird

 

Busy days for Mr Blackbird
with three kids demanding to be fed.
My pleasure to support him with suppling food.

Hunger for life

Sometimes ...

 

there is no need for words ...

Home

Home (Film, 2009)

Yann Arthus Bertrand * 13 March 1953

Moments of solitude

Like a great poet,
Nature knows to produce greatest effects
with most limited means.

– Heinrich Heine (13 December 1796 – 17 February 1856) –

Saturday Night Music – Human Music

 

Human (The film)

Yann Arthus Bertrand * 13 March 1946

Armand Amar * 1953

0:22 – Faces (Caravan – Pakistan) 4:38 – Flamingos (Magadi lake - Kenya) 6:15 – Tenues (Portraits - Human) 7:55 – Dam in China (Dam Xiaolangdi - China) 10:41 – Forgivness (Portraits - Human) 12:48 – Castelles (human tower - Spain) 15:08 – Nepal (Mustang, Nepal) 17:40 – paddy fields (floating gardens - Burma, Lahore market – Pakistan, Attabad lake – Pakistan) 21:30 – Mongolia (Steppes, Mongolia) 25:06 – Storm from human (lençios maranhenses – Brazil, Saint-Guénolé – France) 28:54 – Shakuhachi (Mustang – Nepal, Well – Ethiopia, Fields – Madagascar, Paddy Fields – China) 32:59 – Ploughing – (Fields – Madagascar, Ethiopia, Mexico) 36:00 – Toil (Mines – Madagascar, Uyini Salar Flats – Bolivia, Fabric – Pakistan) 39:32 – Immigration (panorama – Kenya, Ethiopia) 43:45 - Human I (Portraits – Human, Kids – Haiti) 45:28 - Haiti (Market – Haiti) 48:08 - Pepe Mujica (Manhattan, New York) 51:35 – The Hidden Church (Cliff – Ethiopia, Temples – Burma) 53:15 – Castelles (Portraits - Human) 55:12 – Childhood (Kids – Pakistan, Daadab School – Kenya, Clothes – Dominican Republic) 59:47 – Swimming in China (Wave pool – China, Weddings – south Korea) 1:02:27 – Crowds (Stadium – Germany, Military Parade – India) 1:04:49 - Human I (Portraits – Human) 1:11:54 – Jerusalem (Tree of Life – Bolivia) 1:14:41 - Human II (Portraits – Human) 1:20:13 – Ghada’s Dream (End credits, Human)

A mouse, some wasps, Zhuangzi and me

There was a mouse.
What a cat left over
do banquet some wasps.
Somehow my future.
Who will eat me?*

* Which reminds me of "The Death of Zhuangzi".

Dining at "The Rowan's"

There are a few trees in Seanhenge,
but for certain reasons Mr or Mrs Woodpecker
prefers to dine at "The Rowan's".

Hope in a Changing Climate

Survivor [?]

Sun
Flower
2013

My Walden III

. . . always when I need . . .

. . . some moments of contemplation.

Fictitious Dialogue?

Spake a friendly neighbour:
"Beautiful flowers, Mr. J.. Where did you order the seed?"
Nowhere. They are a present.
"Oh, lovely. From your daughter?"
No, from nature.

Spake the friendly neighbour;
"Oh. And why don't I have these beauties in my garden?"
'cause you have such an impeccable looking lawn.

Spake the friendly neighbour:
"I just do prefer to have a cultivated garden."
Spake I:
Well, obviously the fairies just don't like people
daily trimming their lawn with nail scissors.

Spake the friendly neighbour:
"Your weeds are contaminating my ground, anyway."Spake I:

Well, and its petals are flavouring my salads.
Have a nice evening, Mrs. X

Irreal shadows, unreal trees [?]

Nature is where we not are.
There, only there exist the real shadows and real trees.
Fernando Pessoa – The Book of  Unrest, 375

Lousy photo ...

... beautiful bird.

... beautiful creature, was my first thought. I think creature is a lovely word. But then, I do not believe in anyone / anything creating creatures, creating nature.
Which is why I became creative and changed one word in above's caption.

My Walden II

... sort of, anyway.

:)
And voilá, CherryPie,
a place for you
to sit and rest a while.

My Walden

... sort of, anyway.

Census of Marine Life

There's still much homo insapiens can destroy. Enjoy.

Spring is in the Air

First I 'only' heard their calls. Minutes later:

And suddenly the sky is dark'ning,
And o'er the theater away,
One sees, within a blackish swarming,
A host of cranes pass on its way.

And what a formation! Almost a perfect 'W' of around 150 metres width. Estimating their number as once being taught by an ornithologist, this will have been between 450 and 500 harbingers of spring. Amazing. Wonderful!

Unfortunately it was already too dark for taking photos. Thus my thoughts returned to Schiller.

Sieh da, sieh da, Timotheus,
die Kraniche des Ibikus.

However - sorry Friedrich - that ballad is a bit long for a post. (If you like, you will find it here, though - and in English.)

So I chose a poem which does not contain of cranes, but has been written by a crane.
Enjoy.

I met a seer.
He held in his hands
The book of wisdom.

"Sir", I addressed him,
"Let me read."
"Child", he began.

"Sir", I said,
"Think not that I am a child,
For already I know much
of that which you hold.
Aye, much."

He smiled.
Then he opened the book
And held it before me.

Strange that I should have grown so suddenly blind.

Stephen Crane (1871 - 1900)

The peace of the night.