It's Poetry Monday!
Join
Diane,
Delores and me as we offer our thoughts on this week's topic, "trees." Are you interested in joining us? If so, leave a poem in the comments, or post on your own blog and leave a comment to tell us how to find you. You don't need to use the suggested topic; a poem of any kind is welcome. As you will see in a moment, my poem is only tangentially related to trees.
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I've been having some trouble with bird identification, as you may have noticed from
my previous post.
As pointed out by Red (who blogs at
Hiawatha House and is an advanced-skills birder), even the same bird can look different depending on its age, the time of year, and whether it's a male or a female. I think you must need to have a prodigious memory to be able to store all that in your head for every bird you are likely to see in your area. Maybe that's why they make field guides. You think?
Anyway. I started wondering whether birds would have the same trouble identifying people. It has been documented that crows can distinguish among individuals and even teach their offspring which people have treated them poorly or well,
even when their offspring have not previously been in contact with those people. That's amazing, isn't it?
But surely there must be a whole other segment of the bird population that can't tell us apart: birds that think all short people must be children, all greyhaired people look alike, and all colourful dressers must be males (because Hello, in the bird world that's how things are).
I picture the conversation in the trees going something like this. I hope I've got the quotation marks and quotes-within-quotes properly done; it's been close to half a century since I studied this stuff.
*****
Tree Talk
Henry and his Henrietta live up in a tree,
On a branch in a nest with their baby birdies three,
Looking at the Two-Leggers upon the ground below,
Making idle conversation. This is how it goes:
"Look, Riette," says Henry, "at the little person there,
"Is that a baby human, the roundish one with light brown hair?"
Henrietta squints her eyes and tips her head a bit.
"D'you mean the one with grey streaks or the one having the fit?"
"I mean the one that's shrieking and making all the noise,
"And running up and down the yard and playing with those toys."
Riette says, "Oh, you mean the one that's smaller than the others?
I think that it's a youngster, though it
could be a grandmother."
She says, "I just don't know, dear; it's so very hard to tell
"The differences 'tween mom and tot and grandma . . .(sigh) . . . oh, well . . ."
But Henry's a persistent guy and wants to sort it out.
"I've heard that babies wear short pants and often have a pout,
"But all those people on the ground are in short pants today,
"And all of them have scrunched-up little faces. Oh, I say!
"I wish they would be still and let me have a real good look!"
Henrietta sighs again, and reaches for a book.
It's called "The People Watchers Guide"; a glossy new edition;
It's full of people pictures and quick tips on recognition.
If birds are having trouble it will help them recognize
People in their neighbourhood by habits, clothes, and size.
Reading from the volume, Henrietta says, " 'The girls
"Paint their nails and faces and they wear their hair in curls.
"Their clothing is quite flashy and they like to scream a lot.
"They always wear the colour pink; they mince, they do not walk.
"And, as for boys, they are the ones who throw the sticks and stones
"And eat the worms' -- hey, just like us! -- 'and often break their bones.
"They're smelly and they cuss a lot and like to dress in blue;
"They grunt and fart and tease their sibs' -- that's what it says boys do."
Riette continues reading from the Guide held in her wings,
" 'Now these are not definitive, they're only general things.
"In fact, in half of cases, the opposing facts are true:
"The boys are kind; the girls like worms; and both like Pale Ecru.
"And size can be a guide to age, but foolproof it is not;
"Some juveniles can get so tall, while others stay so squat.
"Behavior offers clues to age, but once again, we say,
"Adults can act like kids -- or it can go the other way.
"The thing you must remember when identifying folks:
"The things they have in common are: they don't hatch out from yolks;
"The parents do not sit upon them snug within a nest;
"And none of them have feathers or a beak or tail or crest.' "
Henrietta slowly shuts The People Watchers Guide;
She knows by Henry's vacant eyes her sweetie's brain is fried.
In fact she doesn't think she feels so awfully well herself.
She shakes her head and puts the book away upon the shelf.
The trio on the grass beneath are surely entertaining,
But trying to identify those specimens is draining.
Henry and Riette are happy just to watch the show.
Besides, it's nearly mealtime at the Bird Buffet below.
*****
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Henry and Henrietta's brood: Meet Henny, Honey, and Heiney. Pretend they're being fed bird seed, okay? (Photo: Pixabay)
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*****
Okay, that went a
lot longer than I planned. Thank you for sticking around to the end. Sometimes you get trapped in the middle of a poem, you know? And the vines grow up around you as you're tromping around and before you know it you're stuck in there with no machete and only a bunch of words to get you out. Frankly, I feel lucky to have escaped at all!!
Update: The theme for next week is "positivity" . . .
