Quotes About Birds

Vast flocks of fieldfares netted the sky, turning it to something strangely like a sixteenth-century sleeve sewn with pearls.

I watch the cranes scratching their beaks with their toes and think of how the starling flocks that pour into reed beds like grain turn all of a sudden into birds perching on bowed stems, bright-eyed, their feathers spangled with white spots that glow like small stars. I marvel at how confusion can be resolved by focusing on the things from which it is made. The magic of the flocks is this simple switch between geometry and family.

Clouds of linnets bounce, half-midges, half musical notation, along the hedges surrounding my old home, and all is out of sorts as far as that notion of home lies because my father isn't here.

That is why the girl who was me when I was small loved watching birds. She made herself disappear, and then in the birds she watched, took flight. It was happening now. I had put myself in the hawk's wild mind to tame her, and as the days passed in the darkened room my humanity was burning away.

It was science that taught me how the flights of tens of millions of migrating birds across Europe and Africa, lines on the map drawn in lines of feather and starlight and bone, are stranger and more astonishing than I could ever have imagined, for these creatures navigate by visualising the Earth's magnetic field through detecting quantum entanglement taking place in the receptor cells of their eyes.

the austringer, the solitary trainer of goshawks and sparrowhawks, has had a pretty terrible press.

I think that unless we know more about machines and their use, unless we better understand the mechanical portion of life; we are not able to enjoy the trees, the birds, the flowers, the green fields, the sky and the nature to the fullest (~a little edited *_^*).

I think that unless we know more about machines and their use, unless we better understand the mechanical portion of life; we are not able to enjoy the trees, the birds, the flowers, the sky and the nature to the fullest (~a little edited *_^*).

Like what talents you possess: the woods would be very silent if no birds sang there except those that sang best.

Use what talents you possess; the woods would be very quiet if only those birds sing there that sang best.

Enjoy the spring of love and youth, To some good angel leave the rest; For time will teach thee soon the truth, There are no birds in last year's nest.

There are joys which long to be ours. God sends ten thousands truths, which come about us like birds seeking inlet; but we are shut up to them, and so they bring us nothing, but sit and sing awhile upon the roof, and then fly away.

The shots had dispersed the birds; there remained only two marabous, standing between ten and twenty paces away and plunged in reverie. They were like two old men with bald heads pressed between the shoulders.

Gaea? Isn't that Mother Nature? She's supposed to have, like, flowers in her hair and birds singing around her and dear and rabbits doing her laundry."

mitä minä kertoisin sinulla vaelluksesta kun tällä tyhjällä taivaalla poismenneiden kesän lintujen teräväpiirteiset haamut vielä etsivät vanhoja jälkiä; tai epätoivoisista lennoista kun vaimeinkin kirjavan siiven havina nostattaa riemun suosikkikaduillemme kuvitteellisessa keväässä

Linguistic diversity is integral to the cultural diversity that ensures some humans will survive in the event of one of the periodic global catastrophes. Local indigenous languages hold the keys to to survival because they contain the nouns, the names of the plants, insects, birds and mammals important locally to human survival.

Fall is my favorite season in Los Angeles, watching the birds change color and fall from the trees.

That night the most amazing thing happened: the stars came down from out of the sky. They weren't used to seeing human beings, so they weren't afraid. They were like tame birds—they were all around me, a few feet off the ground, each one about the size of a softball. Spiky, and a little warm, and they sort of squeaked. You could hold them.

The air is crowded with birds -- beautiful, tender, intelligent birds -- to whom life is a song.

If I were queen for a day, every city would have to spend one hour in utter silence: no music in shops and restaurants, no honking of horns, no conversations on mobile phones. Only birds would be allowed to sing.

The radical otherness of birds is integral to their beauty and their value. They are always among us but never of us. Their indifference to us ought to serve as a chastening reminder that we're not the measure of all things.

The first of these toxic chemicals to achieve wide notice were insecticides, pesticides, and herbicides, whose effects on birds, fish, and other animals were publicized by Rachel Carson's 1962 book Silent Spring.

The fragment is like a broken mirror - ideas don't have the time to reflect themselves in it or, as a result, to feel sorry for themselves. They run ahead of their shadows or their reflections. To run ahead is to move towards an unforeseeable outcome, but one whose path is made for it in advance. Birds too run ahead of those who see them. The event also runs ahead of history. It is what opens up untimely perspectives in a world brought totally up to date.

It hardly seemed fair, because, unlike a horse or a Seeing Eye dog, the whole glory of being a bird is that nobody would ever put you to work.