I know perfectly well, that this should be a blog about birdies....
...but when amazingness hits you, it just hits you, and overwhelmingness ensues.
And it's been a week of amazingness and overwhelmingness and utter coolness.
Enabling is just amazing.
Ok, that is all I have to say and processed...for now.

Semi-Live Image (IR)
...auto-refresh ...
Upgrade in progress....for more info check out posts...

Sunday, 21 June 2015
Saturday, 13 June 2015
Emptiness
Sadly the hatchlings left
while I was away, so unfortunately I missed it.
I however think that everything went well. The protective metal grating that I had placed before leaving was still intact. So I believe that the cats did not attempt to catch the hatchlings.
I had put the metal grating in place as I had observed multiple times that two cats, attracted by the incessant chirping, more or less impatiently sat underneath the nesting box looking up.
I cleared out the nesting box this morning. There were no unhatched eggs. Maybe, as it is still quite early in the season, a new pair will come and nest. I am, however not very optimistic, as there are just toooo many cats.
When there are several nesting options available, then why take the worst one possible?!
.....Options. It is funny how given no options lack of freedom is regretted, complaints follow. But, when given options, hell breaks loose and “man” feels truly lost.
It would thus seem that those famous "boxes" are not just limiting but seen as protective.
Why? Is not the ideal situation one in which one can create options for one’s self and for others, for the future?
I however think that everything went well. The protective metal grating that I had placed before leaving was still intact. So I believe that the cats did not attempt to catch the hatchlings.
I had put the metal grating in place as I had observed multiple times that two cats, attracted by the incessant chirping, more or less impatiently sat underneath the nesting box looking up.
I cleared out the nesting box this morning. There were no unhatched eggs. Maybe, as it is still quite early in the season, a new pair will come and nest. I am, however not very optimistic, as there are just toooo many cats.
When there are several nesting options available, then why take the worst one possible?!
.....Options. It is funny how given no options lack of freedom is regretted, complaints follow. But, when given options, hell breaks loose and “man” feels truly lost.
It would thus seem that those famous "boxes" are not just limiting but seen as protective.
Why? Is not the ideal situation one in which one can create options for one’s self and for others, for the future?
Sunday, 7 June 2015
Sunday, 31 May 2015
Sere 'n Geti
Many many years ago in a land far far away there lived a lonely spider. Sere was his name. He spent his days waiting and waiting. Waiting hungrily under the hot sun hoping for a dizzy fly to come by.
Now, Sere was an intelligent spider and he tried many tricks and moved to many spots always hoping for a dizzy fly: tree tops and rock cracks, earth mounds and shrub leaves, but no flies came by and he grew hungrier and hungrier.
The land was arid and the sun was hot and Sere did not like to sit under the burning sun. But the land Sere had known his lifelong only knew sun and so Sere looked for shade wherever he could.
One day as he crouched and waited he started wondering if there was anything other than sun, perhaps in another land. Something that brought coolness like the night did. And the more he thought the more he grew convinced that there must be. Rain he called it. But as he named it he also realized that if this rain would always fall he, Sere the fly-spider, would be even hungrier because dizzy flies don't fly when it rains.
"Hmmm", he thought, "if I could eat grass and have long legs to jump from one leaf of grass to the other then I would be a happy jumpy spider."
That day when the sun disappeared behind the horizon and Sere fell asleep, rain began to fall and wet the land and the land began to change. Grass began to grow where there had been only dust. And Sere too began to change - his legs, his eyes, his body.
The morning came and as Sere woke up he smelt the wet earth and crawling hungrily from under the rocks he looked around - he was in the midst of a sea of green! He was hungry and began to eat when all of a sudden he realized that he, a fly-spider, was eating grass! He stopped chewing, a little leaf hanging from his jaw, examined himself and spitting out the little leaf he cried "I have lost two legs!". Panic seized him and up he jumped! Higher and higher he rose and then faster and faster he fell. "Help" he screamed - but then nothing happened. He was safe on another leaf of grass, close to a grasshopper.
"I have lost two legs!" he screamed at the grasshopper.
"No you haven't", replied the grasshopper.
"But I should have eight legs!", cried Sere.
"You've been eating too much weed" replied the grasshopper, "spiders have eight legs and you're a grasshopper. Now let me be, I'm hungry." And with that the grasshopper jumped away.
A grasshopper? I'm a grasshopper? Sere looked again at himself and indeed he was a grasshopper. A grasshopper! "I need a new name" he thought, "Hmmm...Geti, yes! I will be Geti the grasshopper!"
And so it came to be that in the land of endless sun and endless rain, with each change of season, Sere the spider became Geti the grasshopper and the land came to be known as Sere 'n Geti.
Now, Sere was an intelligent spider and he tried many tricks and moved to many spots always hoping for a dizzy fly: tree tops and rock cracks, earth mounds and shrub leaves, but no flies came by and he grew hungrier and hungrier.
The land was arid and the sun was hot and Sere did not like to sit under the burning sun. But the land Sere had known his lifelong only knew sun and so Sere looked for shade wherever he could.
One day as he crouched and waited he started wondering if there was anything other than sun, perhaps in another land. Something that brought coolness like the night did. And the more he thought the more he grew convinced that there must be. Rain he called it. But as he named it he also realized that if this rain would always fall he, Sere the fly-spider, would be even hungrier because dizzy flies don't fly when it rains.
"Hmmm", he thought, "if I could eat grass and have long legs to jump from one leaf of grass to the other then I would be a happy jumpy spider."
That day when the sun disappeared behind the horizon and Sere fell asleep, rain began to fall and wet the land and the land began to change. Grass began to grow where there had been only dust. And Sere too began to change - his legs, his eyes, his body.
The morning came and as Sere woke up he smelt the wet earth and crawling hungrily from under the rocks he looked around - he was in the midst of a sea of green! He was hungry and began to eat when all of a sudden he realized that he, a fly-spider, was eating grass! He stopped chewing, a little leaf hanging from his jaw, examined himself and spitting out the little leaf he cried "I have lost two legs!". Panic seized him and up he jumped! Higher and higher he rose and then faster and faster he fell. "Help" he screamed - but then nothing happened. He was safe on another leaf of grass, close to a grasshopper.
"I have lost two legs!" he screamed at the grasshopper.
"No you haven't", replied the grasshopper.
"But I should have eight legs!", cried Sere.
"You've been eating too much weed" replied the grasshopper, "spiders have eight legs and you're a grasshopper. Now let me be, I'm hungry." And with that the grasshopper jumped away.
A grasshopper? I'm a grasshopper? Sere looked again at himself and indeed he was a grasshopper. A grasshopper! "I need a new name" he thought, "Hmmm...Geti, yes! I will be Geti the grasshopper!"
And so it came to be that in the land of endless sun and endless rain, with each change of season, Sere the spider became Geti the grasshopper and the land came to be known as Sere 'n Geti.
Tanzania...
Saturday, 30 May 2015
A week after first light
A week has passed since the
hatchlings have "seen" first light (they actually hatch with
closed eyes). I was away the whole week and upon my return I was delighted to
discover that the chirping from the nesting box has significantly increased.
From the live-feed I can distinguish 4 or 5, which is not very many given that
Blue Tits generally lay in the order of 10 eggs.
I love to just sit outside and watch as the busy parents fly in and out and to hear an outburst of high-pitched chirping every time.
I love it so much that I sometime sneak up to the nesting box and tap gently on it to trigger those hungry music boxes.
Today, as I was looking at the live stream I was trying to determine whether I will be home when they leave the nest in approximately two weeks. I might be lucky. It truly is the best part of it all: to see the little ones leave the nest.
And it is nice and amazing how it is all more or less pre-programmed. This in turn gives it all an irrefutable sense of certainty, equally justified and unjustified. The uninvolved observer. The bird's eye view.
Today I was told that at my age life is good. As the lovely person that was telling me is more than a few years older, I for a second wondered if those words spoken to me were triggered by the same “bird's eye view” and associated tranquillity.
To have both, to master both youth and this irrefutably experience-given, though not necessarily legitimate, tranquillity while pushing beyond all experience-conceived boundaries…… to master youth of the mind knowing that it will never abandon you and thus achieve the tranquillity necessary to do exactly that which is necessary at the precise moment when it is needed….
...a challenge for all ages alike.
I love to just sit outside and watch as the busy parents fly in and out and to hear an outburst of high-pitched chirping every time.
I love it so much that I sometime sneak up to the nesting box and tap gently on it to trigger those hungry music boxes.
Today, as I was looking at the live stream I was trying to determine whether I will be home when they leave the nest in approximately two weeks. I might be lucky. It truly is the best part of it all: to see the little ones leave the nest.
And it is nice and amazing how it is all more or less pre-programmed. This in turn gives it all an irrefutable sense of certainty, equally justified and unjustified. The uninvolved observer. The bird's eye view.
Today I was told that at my age life is good. As the lovely person that was telling me is more than a few years older, I for a second wondered if those words spoken to me were triggered by the same “bird's eye view” and associated tranquillity.
To have both, to master both youth and this irrefutably experience-given, though not necessarily legitimate, tranquillity while pushing beyond all experience-conceived boundaries…… to master youth of the mind knowing that it will never abandon you and thus achieve the tranquillity necessary to do exactly that which is necessary at the precise moment when it is needed….
...a challenge for all ages alike.
Saturday, 23 May 2015
Life outside of the eggshells has begun...
The eggs
have hatched!
This morning I peeked at the video and noticed the female leaving. Shortly afterwards the male came in with a tiny tiny worm in its beak.
How did I figure out it was the male? Because he behaved like all males when the eggs have just hatched and they have to interact with the hatchlings for the first time. It is really amazing and amusing. The behavioral change of the males over the first few days after hatching is truly fascinating.
Gradually the male gets used to interacting with the hatchlings himself: calls to them to let them know that he is there with food and up pop the big heads with beaks wide open.
And after he has done this a couple of times he is then reluctant to give the food to the female and wants to feed the hatchlings himself. This is what I have observed in the last couple of years.
This morning I peeked at the video and noticed the female leaving. Shortly afterwards the male came in with a tiny tiny worm in its beak.
How did I figure out it was the male? Because he behaved like all males when the eggs have just hatched and they have to interact with the hatchlings for the first time. It is really amazing and amusing. The behavioral change of the males over the first few days after hatching is truly fascinating.
Generally,
early after hatching, the female spends most of the day warming the small
hatchlings (they have no way of controlling their temperature and keeping warm),
so when the male comes in, he gives her the food he has brought in for the
hatchlings and she then proceeds to feed them.
So, when,
for the first time the male comes in and there is no female, the male is taken
aback and looks like he does not quite know what to do. After a few seconds of
hesitation and puzzlement, he approaches the nest and feeds the hatchlings
himself.Gradually the male gets used to interacting with the hatchlings himself: calls to them to let them know that he is there with food and up pop the big heads with beaks wide open.
And after he has done this a couple of times he is then reluctant to give the food to the female and wants to feed the hatchlings himself. This is what I have observed in the last couple of years.
And it
fascinates me every time.
Thursday, 21 May 2015
Super Partes Interventionism
I’m still
trying to figure out if “super partes interventionism” is an oxymoron or not.
Where does
it come from? Well, I invented it. Not in absolute terms, but I just came up
with it for myself.
I arrived
home last night to find three cats in my garden. A gray one, an orange one, and
the black one. The black one. He is one special fellow. To me he is anyway. It
is a pleasure to be greeted by him. The instant he sees me, he stops all
activity, and with his tail straight up in the air, he runs towards me meowing
quite incessantly, to then throw himself at my feet belly in the air so that I
may stoop down and pet him. And as I gently caress him, he closes his eyes and
remains quite still, closes his paws and looks like he could fall asleep any
instant. What fascinates me is that I don’t feed him.
I used to
have a black cat when I was a child, and she was very much the same. She was at
my grandmother’s place and whenever I used to visit and she heard my name being
called, she would suddenly appear from out of nowhere and rush into the house
so that child and cat could indulge in a captivated and silent exchange of
affection.
Anyway, I
obviously have a dilemma: cat love on the one side - bird protection on the
other. And the two just don’t mix. Uhm.
The dilemma
is not acute right this moment. The female Blue Tit is still brooding, so there
is not much visible activity going on. Inside the box she sits there, turns the
eyes at regular intervals, changes position. But it is all very silent. It all
passes very much unobserved even for the most attentive of cat eyes.
The
question is what happens when things start “living”.
I will need
to find a solution. Protect the nest somehow from the outside.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)