What might this be and what does the image suggest?
Sunday 3rd of May was International Dawn Chorus Day. Here in Cumbria it was raining at 5.00 am and all I could hear was a wren. Bird populations are in freefall around the world and the dawn chorus is 'nowhere near as rich, varied and species-full' as it was. BBC Radio 4 Woman's Hour had an interview with Lucy McRobert, collaborator for a new book 'The Sound Approach to Female Birdsong.' Birders neglect females, both song and appearance. Ornithology has long been the preserve of men. Even as she advances her argument there's a note of deference to male birders as if she is in awe of their field-craft and absolute focus.
This morning I'm in quest of the cuckoo, hoping to hear him for a second time this season. Him. On one memorable occasion I stood beneath an oak on Helsington Barrows listening to the female, like gurgling bathwater says Sir David Attenborough who celebrates his 100th birthday this week. With bird populations in freefall many will never hear a male cuckoo, let alone the far less vocal female.
As for the introductory image, I'm reluctant to impose an interpretation. I'm interested to know how others may respond. The scene was not silent. The screech and clamour of black-headed gulls filled the air and, for some minutes, the beat of wings drifted over the water.
Here's the scene.
Sunday 3rd of May was International Dawn Chorus Day. Here in Cumbria it was raining at 5.00 am and all I could hear was a wren. Bird populations are in freefall around the world and the dawn chorus is 'nowhere near as rich, varied and species-full' as it was. BBC Radio 4 Woman's Hour had an interview with Lucy McRobert, collaborator for a new book 'The Sound Approach to Female Birdsong.' Birders neglect females, both song and appearance. Ornithology has long been the preserve of men. Even as she advances her argument there's a note of deference to male birders as if she is in awe of their field-craft and absolute focus.
This morning I'm in quest of the cuckoo, hoping to hear him for a second time this season. Him. On one memorable occasion I stood beneath an oak on Helsington Barrows listening to the female, like gurgling bathwater says Sir David Attenborough who celebrates his 100th birthday this week. With bird populations in freefall many will never hear a male cuckoo, let alone the far less vocal female.
As for the introductory image, I'm reluctant to impose an interpretation. I'm interested to know how others may respond. The scene was not silent. The screech and clamour of black-headed gulls filled the air and, for some minutes, the beat of wings drifted over the water.
Here's the scene.
There are three pairs of black-headed gulls mating, shown directly, in shadow and in reflections in the water. At a glance, the third image may seem to be a single bird. Two legs (female), two wings (male), one head (male). Visually, the male bird is dominant and striking. Sunlight reveals each feather of his outstretched wings and a hint of sky-blue gives the bird the look of an angel glorious with avian wings, powerful and bright. Angels may be androgynous but consider Archangel names: Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael. I reflect on the Annunciation and the Archangel Gabriel in medieval paintings.
Lucy McRobert reminds us how male birds can be relentless in pursuit of a mate and sometimes drown the female. I'm puzzling over my final image. Is this a male drowning his mate or his reflection in the water.
* * * * *
Here I cast aside all irony and pay tribute to Sir David Attenborough whose 100th birthday is celebrated by us all this week. On Friday 8th May I intend to immerse myself in Radio 3 whose programming is devoted to his lifetime's work and incomparable achievement as broadcaster, naturalist and conservationist. Rewatching the 'Life on Earth' I remember Mike Salisbury coming to a school in Bristol to show Attenborough's film and to talk about its making.
I followed the call of the cuckoo over Scout Scar and onto Helsington Barrows, heard throughout the morning but not seen. As I approached the leafy oak dreaming of hearing the female cuckoo the male called insistently. All to the sound of lark-song, the male skylark in display flight.
Lucy McRobert reminds us how male birds can be relentless in pursuit of a mate and sometimes drown the female. I'm puzzling over my final image. Is this a male drowning his mate or his reflection in the water.
* * * * *
Here I cast aside all irony and pay tribute to Sir David Attenborough whose 100th birthday is celebrated by us all this week. On Friday 8th May I intend to immerse myself in Radio 3 whose programming is devoted to his lifetime's work and incomparable achievement as broadcaster, naturalist and conservationist. Rewatching the 'Life on Earth' I remember Mike Salisbury coming to a school in Bristol to show Attenborough's film and to talk about its making.
I followed the call of the cuckoo over Scout Scar and onto Helsington Barrows, heard throughout the morning but not seen. As I approached the leafy oak dreaming of hearing the female cuckoo the male called insistently. All to the sound of lark-song, the male skylark in display flight.
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