Sunday, 23 May 2010

Our avian neighbour

This fellow is a regular fixture in the field behind our garden. He is often to be heard trumpeting his presence to pheasant and non-pheasant alike. Among the green, green grass, watered by abnormally high May rainfall, he spends his time unhurriedly strolling up and down. Every now and then the noisy shadow of an airliner coming into land makes him take notice, but like the humans here, he's got used to the planes.

Looking at him eye to eye, I wonder what consciousness resides within his being; what does he makes of it all? As he looks at that human looking at him through a long black tube, what rational calculations cross his mind? What flashes of insight into his world suddenly occur to him, making him cumulatively the wiser?

Above: Taken a few days later - Pan Bażant spreads his wings and makes that trumpety sound.


Jeannie said...

That is a beauty. He's probably thinking what a lovely eye you have (the lens).

Anonymous said...

Nice shot Michael!


Anonymous said...

Perhaps he acquired the wisdom that humans pointing long tubes at him pose no danger to his life.


Anonymous said...

Michael – “What flashes of insight into his world suddenly occur to him?”
Avian neighbor – “I hope I am not his Sunday dinner”
Btw, beautiful green grass with your avian friend.