Just an observation...
Apr. 29th, 2008 05:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
unknownfateDon't let bird-watchers drive unless you're over-relaxed and want to tense up a bit.
I've noticed it in separate watchers, in different situations. They could be driving along, chatting idly, then all of a sudden! Bird! Slam on the brakes! Throw the car in reverse! Zip backwards up the street to see some type of irate sparrow-looking fluffs of feather fighting each other.
"Look!" the watcher will squeal. "It's (some bird name)."
"Gasp!" I sputter, clutching the armrest and door handle for my life.
If it had been only one person, I could have just labeled it an individual eccentricity, but no. Barrow's a great place for bird-watching, actually. For some of the year. And that time of the year is almost here.
We have some world-class ornithologists that come up here to do studies because of the hordes of migrating waterfowl that come through. At the moment, we have the snowy owls that the town is named for, the occasional seagull, and the recent arrivals, our own little heralds of spring, the snow bunting. (Their arrival didn't stop last night's two inches of snow, but anything that helps fill the killer potholes in this town is welcome to me.) There may be more, but those are the ones that I can recognize.
Though not a bird-watcher, I do like seeing the occasional raven. It's not often, but there's something very cool about ravens. Somebody once asked what the difference between a crow and a raven was, and all I can say to that is that you'll know. Crows are cool too, don't get me wrong. But a raven is a huge Stygian bird of ages past that looks at you like it knows what your eyeballs are going to taste like. They're impressive.
Maybe I could be a bird-watcher if I could recognize more kinds of birds. Then again, my driving doesn't need any less of my attention...
I've noticed it in separate watchers, in different situations. They could be driving along, chatting idly, then all of a sudden! Bird! Slam on the brakes! Throw the car in reverse! Zip backwards up the street to see some type of irate sparrow-looking fluffs of feather fighting each other.
"Look!" the watcher will squeal. "It's (some bird name)."
"Gasp!" I sputter, clutching the armrest and door handle for my life.
If it had been only one person, I could have just labeled it an individual eccentricity, but no. Barrow's a great place for bird-watching, actually. For some of the year. And that time of the year is almost here.
We have some world-class ornithologists that come up here to do studies because of the hordes of migrating waterfowl that come through. At the moment, we have the snowy owls that the town is named for, the occasional seagull, and the recent arrivals, our own little heralds of spring, the snow bunting. (Their arrival didn't stop last night's two inches of snow, but anything that helps fill the killer potholes in this town is welcome to me.) There may be more, but those are the ones that I can recognize.
Though not a bird-watcher, I do like seeing the occasional raven. It's not often, but there's something very cool about ravens. Somebody once asked what the difference between a crow and a raven was, and all I can say to that is that you'll know. Crows are cool too, don't get me wrong. But a raven is a huge Stygian bird of ages past that looks at you like it knows what your eyeballs are going to taste like. They're impressive.
Maybe I could be a bird-watcher if I could recognize more kinds of birds. Then again, my driving doesn't need any less of my attention...
