I had the big lens on the camera as I walked along the edge of the bank. A sudden burst of wings and furious language. I looked down, and saw this. The thrush continued to abuse my past as I quickly photographed its future. After five photos I moved on, apologetic about the brief disturbance. (I don't attempt to photograph or even search for nests; the consequences of discovery for the birds can be disastrous. This was opportunistic.)
[4 November 2010, Canon 20D, 300 mm f4 L IS, ISO 400, 1/40 at f6.3]
All content © 2010 Pete McGregor
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7 comments:
What an interesting exploration of forms of expression.
Should I ask your cousin to set it to music next?
Yes, do let's get Pete's cousin to set it to music. This could be a a more creative form of the 'chain letter', perhaps even a new type of collaborative internet art!
beautiful photograph Pete. The colour of those eggs just sings!
Nice capture. Boy, you can tell a thrush egg, regardless of the continent! Which makes me realize the irony of the house sparrow's accusation at the end of my poem -- usually it is the blue-egg-laying thrushes who suffer nest parasitism from the likes of cowbirds and cuckoos.
So smoothed inside, gems set in fluff.
RR, Like Clive, I like the idea — I'm sure my cousin would come up with something excellent. If he feels inspired, music would be a wonderful way of extending the sequence.
Clive, thanks — and thanks for inspiring Dave and me, and who knows who else?
Dave, it's been a long time since I've seen inside a wild bird's nest, and for this to coincide with reading your poem about Clive's painting seemed too compelling to ignore.
Zhoen, gems indeed. Sometimes I find the fact they're alive hard to believe.
wowzers. that blue is amazing
and what a great find.
Leonie, it makes me realise how uncommon blue is in nature — at least this kind of striking blue (and ignoring occasional skies).
I'm resisting the temptation to check whether the nest's now full of noisy little mouths.
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