She especially liked my bedside lamp, which had a five-sided porcelain shade. Unlit, the shade seemed like bumpy ivory. Lit, each panel came to life with the image of a bird: a blue jay, a cardinal, wrens, an oriole, and a dove. Kathleen turned it off and on again, several times. "How does it do that?"
"The panels are called lithophanes." I knew because I'd asked my father about the lamp, years ago. "The porcelain is carved and painted. You can see it if you look inside the shade."
"No," she said. "It's magic. I don't want to know how it's done.
Tags: birds lamp lithophanes
قال لي إنه نشأ بقرية قرب جبل هناك، يسمونه جبل الطير، لأن طيوراً تأتي في كل عام، وتحط عنده، فتملأه الاجواء، ثم ترحل فجأة، بعدما يضحي طير بنفسه، بأن يدخل رأسه، في كوة بسفح الجبل، فيتلقف رأسه من داخلها شيء مجهول، فلا يفلته حتى يجف جسده، ويسقط ريشه، فتكون تلك اشارة لبقية الطير، كي يغطسوا في النيل، ويرحلوا في الليل
يوسف زيدان - عزازيلMr. Jamrach led me through the lobby and into the menagerie. The first was a parrot room, a fearsome screaming place of mad round eyes, crimson breasts that beat against bars, wings that flapped against their neighbours, blood red, royal blue, gypsy yellow, grass green. The birds were crammed along perches. Macaws hung upside down here and there, batting their white eyes, and small green parrots flittered above our heads in drifts. A hot of cockatoos looked down from on high over the shrill madness, high crested, creamy breasted. The screeching was like laughter in hell.
Carol BirchTags: animals hell birds menagerie parrots
Feed the birds in winter; in return, they will feed your soul with the look of gratitude!
Mehmet Murat ildanTags: birds
Wherever there are birds, there is hope.
Mehmet Murat ildanTags: birds
There shall come a day when Birds shall be free... :) and humans will see...
K.Hari KumarTags: freedom free freedom-of-thought independence birds cage caged-bird
Birdsong foamed in the hour-before-dawn garden.
David MitchellIn Our Woods, Sometimes a Rare Music
Every spring
I hear the thrush singing
in the glowing woods
he is only passing through.
His voice is deep,
then he lifts it until it seems
to fall from the sky.
I am thrilled.
I am grateful.
Then, by the end of morning,
he's gone, nothing but silence
out of the tree
where he rested for a night.
And this I find acceptable.
Not enough is a poor life.
But too much is, well, too much.
Imagine Verdi or Mahler
every day, all day.
It would exhaust anyone.
Tags: music nature serenity spring birds springtime birdsong
يمضي الإنسان عبر الطبيعة متلمساً أملاً ومنتظراً معجزة، ينتظر راهباً أو حاجاً أو بوذا أو نبياً أو طائرا متكلماً حتى ليخبره إن كانت لديه روح لا ينقطع وجودها حتى مع الموت، ليخبره عن مادة تلك الروح، وليخبره عما فوق الإنسان، أي نظام، أي مخلوق أو كائن وفي أي انفجار عظيم كان أصله، وأين يتجه. يمضي الإنسان عبر الطبيعة منتظراً لقاءً، أو إشارة على الأقل، دون أن يعرف طبيعة هذا اللقاء أو تلك الإشارة
Ivan KlímaTags: nature soul miracles human birds
Night was falling. Birds were singing. Birds were, it occurred to me to say, enacting a frantic celebration of day's end. They were manifesting as the earth's bright-colored nerve endings, the sun's descent urging them into activity, filling them individually with life nectar, the life nectar then being passed into the world, out of each beak, in the form of that bird's distinctive song, which was, in turn, an accident of beak shape, throat shape, breast configuration, brain chemistry: some birds blessed in voice, others cursed; some squeaking, others rapturous.
George SaundersTags: beauty nature evolution birds
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