Bringing up the rear (after the white and the pink birds), the little blue heron. Ta da. And an even littler one on the way.
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Photo Memory of the Week
Video of the Week: “It was an ambush!”
Leeloo whups a bunch of armed and nasty aliens, unarmed and all by her own self.
The quote is at timestamp 1:43.
Poetry of the Week
On Tender Hooks
- by Brian BilstonLet me cut to the cheese:
every time you open your mouth,
I’m on tender hooks.You charge at the English language
like a bowl in a china shop.
Please nip it in the butt.On the spurt of the moment,
the phrases tumble out.
It’s time you gave up the goat.Curve your enthusiasm.
Don’t give them free range.
The chickens will come home to roast.Now you are in high dungeon.
You think me a damp squid:
on your phrases I shouldn’t impose.But they spread like wildflowers
in a doggy-dog world,
and your spear of influence grows.Posted: 2025 Apr 20
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Beautiful birds and beautiful photos.
Judith – Thanks! Like lots of big birds, they hold still for long periods . . .
How does it attend to its feathers on his neck and head?
Barbara – Friends?
Very nice collection Isabel. I always liked finding these guys in the wild. (As I suspect you know, the juvenile little blue heron is pure white)
Jim R – Yes, I guess I know it, although I forget that oddball colouring from one time to the next, so it’s not very well seated in there. On our travels, I see more tricolor herons than little blues, I think. But they’re all good.
Learning that these beauties start out life with white feathers lends the thought “maturity” to elegance. They sport such painterly details, as though dressed for company, delightful birds.
Laurna – Ah. Sort of like my Pinky-Winky Hydrangea which blooms white and matures into a deep rose. If only someone had come up with a more elegant name for it.