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Birds Quotes

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Birds Quotes

“...but just four years later, in June 1977, I was to find a pair of Buff-collared Nightjars on territory in the lower canyon... By the time that happened, the Tuscon Five would be only a memory. Ironically, it was I, the transient, who was the only one to wind up living in Tuscon later. The other four scattered to the four different states, and after that May of 1973, never again would all five of us get together. But the brief life span of our little gang was a golden time - a time of discovery and wonder, a time when so many of the birds were still elusive and mysterious to us, a time that would never come again.”

“Oh yes," said Jana. "You want the birdbath." She let him down onto the rim of the birdbath, then watched as he dipped his head, lowered his chest into the water, and raised it. Having finished his bath, he did a dance of sheer joy, flapping his wings and shaking off the water in a circle of drops. "He enjoys life," said a voice. Mr. Powell the optometrist, a closed umbrella in hand, was letting his two dachshunds chase each other around the park. "As do your dogs," said Jana. "Yes," said Mr. Powell,"they have fun in a simpler and more joyous way than most humans do. Their pleasures seem more reliable. All you have to do is say the word 'walk' and they're wiggling from head to toe....”

“The appreciation of birds, indeed the appreciation of all the phenomena of spring, cannot be dissociated from the accumulations of memory. The appearance of a familiar bird immediately awakens a train of forgotten associations, and this makes each spring transcend its predecessor. The interest accumulates and is compounded. The first yellow-throated warbler next year will be the more meaningful to me as it brings back that moment in the woods opposite Dyke. For one remembers clearly enough the fact of such a moment, but only an evocative sight or sound or smell can bring back the full emotion. The person who sees the bird for the first time cannot know what moves me.”

“i wish i were a bird so i could fly over to your balcony and sit there whole day watching you in the morning, in the afternoon, in the evening till you go to bed for sleep at night, sometimes i wish i could talk to you in that squeaky voice or maybe make you laugh with my birdie dance, i wish i could hear your heart beats surreptitiously when you fall asleep in your bed and wipe your tears off your cheek, i wish i could bring small beautiful flowers in my little beak and keep it fresh on your porch ready for a warm good morning, i wish if you notice that bird sometimes, i wish if i could speak all these words to you but you won't understand cause all i do is chirp, chirp, chirp...”

“Wings are of many kinds. Butterfly's wings, vulture's wings, eagle-wings, spread wings of white swans, dragonfly's serene wings, wings of albatross, lovely wings of humming birds, tiny wings of a fly or a bumble-bee-wings; and when they fly, they fly their best according to their ability of flying. We should not underestimate the size of those heavenly wings.”

“I remember one of the last things Mother said to us, one of the very last things. In my mind, it has become the last thing, and maybe it was. She was lying on the cedar frame bed in the back bed-room in the early summer, with the bed moved over right against the window. The window was open to let the breeze and birdsong and sunlight in, the light rushing in through the lace curtains. She had lost a lot of weight and had had a hard time, but was never more beautiful in the way that there can be nothing more beautiful than dignity. "I've seen a lot," she said, and smiled, and it was not an act for us, it was not a thing said for our benefit. She was just saying it, and smiling. She was just brave, was all.”

“THe church is full of flowers-yellow roses, lilies, blue hydrangeas spilling forth-and it is on these that Charlie trains his gaze and looks for his mother, who is nowhere to be found. Not even her ashes are in the church, and no coffin, but this is less hard to comprehend than the fact that she is not herself there, a thin old bird, an egret maybe, standing on one leg, head bobbing, long neck swiveling. Contradicting, adding and subtracting. poking fun. Peering out.”

“THE OLD MAN IN THE CORNER The man in the corner Is dying with words He's crying to be heard His days are marked And his only ears are birds He knows the secret to peace And his experience bleeds and hurts Somebody stop and listen Before he departs the earth! Somebody write his thoughts Before he hits the turf! His eyes are closing their shutters And he just dropped his Beads and stick. His breath is leaving us. Please! Somebody hear him out quick! A little girl rushes to him and Picks up his cane of wood. The old man then turns to her And faintly whispers, "The key to peace is To always stay fair And be good.”

“Facts swooped like swallows, darting across her mind; there was a rush of pride in things still remembered. Singing was limited to the perching birds, the order Passeriformes. Nearly half the birds in the world didn't sing, but they still used sound to communicate- calls as opposed to song. Most birds had between five and fifteen distinct calls in their repertoire; alarm and territorial defense calls, distress calls from juveniles to bring an adult to the rescue, flight calls to keep the flock coordinated, even separate calls for commencing and ending flight. Nest calls. Feeding calls. Pleasure calls. Some chicks used calls to communicate with their mothers while they were still in the egg.”

“С малка торба и със няколко къшея човекът преживяше тъжната зима. Лежи незавит. А мястото - същото - студена скамейка и снежна градина. Той хляба в дланта си корава сковава по навик го гали и тайно въздиша. От болка по-жълт глухо изгревът пада. И падат със него премръзнали птици. И просякът, брат им, веднага споделя трохите на своята улична участ. Щастлив е в студената птича неделя, макар че животът е жалка минута. Площадите шумни не виждат доброто, ненужно за тях... като стара хартия. Но просякът там е. И тихо, и скромно сърцата на всички в гърдите му бият.”

“Birds do not attend flight schools; Rivers do not attend flowing colleges; Fishes do not attend swimming conferences; Trees do not attend fruit bearing seminars... There is something that you can do automatically that someone may not do... Find it and do it! There is something someone may do automatically that you may not do; leave it for him to it!”

“Bright blue/green eyes I adore, with me for them admiration I store, yet I have a woman in my life, brightly eyed, that I love, like a wife. I love the sky at early dawn, when ancient sorrow it makes gone, I love the sea, where birds would soar, ever moments with her I adore.”

“A human being can only endure depression up to a certain point; when this point of saturation is reached it becomes necessary for him to discover some element of pleasure, no matter how humble or on how low a level, in his environment if he is to go on living at all. In my case these insignificant birds with their subdued colourings have provided just sufficient distraction to keep me from total despair. Each day I find myself spending longer and longer at the window watching their flights, their quarrels, their mouse-quick flutterings, their miniature feuds and alliances. Curiously enough, it is only when I am standing in front of the window that I feel any sense of security. While I am watching the birds I believe that I am comparatively immune from the assaults of life. The very indifference to humanity of these wild creatures affords me a certain safeguard. Where all else is dangerous, hostile and liable to inflict pain, they alone can do me no injury because, probably, they are not even aware of my existence. The birds are at once my refuge and my relaxation.”

“Andreas Ban would like to put several swifts on his chest to rest, to breathe with him like sleeping children. Little black birds like cheerful death. Painless. Little black birds with big eyes and a small beak, which peck noiselessly at his insides, see what is there and are silent. Andreas Ban stretches his arms toward the sky, imagining that he is flying, imagining himself in a flock of swifts and lets out a stifled cry. Small birds, they die when they are alone. He, Andreas Ban, is alone.”

“Stranger's Park by Stewart Stafford Up the empty, welcoming path, Half grass/gravel in composition, Past ruined cottage foundations, And tree trunk with vaginal cleft. Swings sway, empty playground, Birds serenading wraith children, Roundhead bins stand as sentries, Keeping errant litter off the grass. Army truck and wailing ambulance, Shatter the tranquility as they pass, Blaring car horn joins the cacophony, Turning on my heel, I journey home. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”

“The elders say- difficult to prove- that winged creatures also dream. The birds are lovers of heights, always searching out landing spots, never constant here at the foot of the human race. 'It's that they discovered a magical advantage...' they say, 'the sound of silence.' At the foot of the clouds the raindrops come earlier, it's true, and the silence of the sky is something unattainable for those who don't fly- we have never experimented. The dream of the birds was that man of them headed for a land where they experienced a similar magic to that lived by them. In the final analysis, music is the only human sound similar to that of silence.”

“Nothing belongs to itself anymore. These trees are yours because you once looked at them. These streets are yours because you once traversed them. These coffee shops and bookshops, these cafés and bars, their sole owner is you. They gave themselves so willingly, surrendering to your perfume. You sang with the birds and they stopped to listen to you. You smiled at the sheepish stars and they fell into your hair. The sun and moon, the sea and mountain, they have all left from heartbreak. Nothing belongs to itself anymore. You once spoke to Him, and then God became yours. He sits with us in darkness now to plot how to make you ours.” K.K.”

“O Heavenly Children, do not forget that God is here, there and everywhere. The birds are his eyes and the air is his ears. And as you sleep, your heart and soul rest naked before him. He can drink from the rivers of your thoughts, and even feel the wetness of your tears.”

“To be a birder is to fall in love. Obsessively, irrevocably and, perhaps, foolishly. This love, it creeps up on you. A wedge-tailed eagle slices through the sky. A magpie’s liquid song pierces the dawn. A snowy owl gazes unblinking across the tundra. So, here’s to the birdwatchers, those optimistic, slightly eccentric custodians of wonder and joy and passion and love. Because sometimes it is as simple as opening your eyes, stepping outside and looking upon the world around you.”

“What is meditation? Meditation is to learn to be with yourself, meditation is to delight in your own being. Meditation is a totally relaxed state of consciousness, where you are not doing anything. Meditation is just to be, not doing anything, no action, no thought and no emotion. You just are, and it is a sheer joy and delight. This joy and delight when you are not doing anything comes from nowhere or everywhere. The essence of existence is joy. Joy and happiness is your very being, your innermost core. When you look at the birds, the trees and the stars, you will see that the whole existence is joyful. Birds are happy for no reason, trees are happy for no reason and flowers are happy for no reason.  The whole existence is made of joy. If you can just be with yourself, not doing anything, just enjoying yourself, just being with yourself, not doing anything, then you are in meditation.”

“Has anyone seen meadowlark? I’ve been looking for probably forty years now unsuccessfully. He used to live in the field I crossed many a morning heading to the woods, truant again from school. There were no meadowlarks in the school. Which was a good enough reason for me not to want to be there. But now it’s more serious. There is no field, neither have the woods survived. So, where is meadowlark? If anyone has seen him, please would you let me know posthaste?”

“As I sat there on that winter afternoon, feeding the birds, laughing and rejoicing at the way they come again and again, flying one after another and fighting for every piece, I realised how funny and simple life truly is in these simple moments. We always have someone to provide for us, but we try to make up excuses for the lack of it, instead of trusting in divine timing. What if in reality, our Creator is a simple man on a chair, laughing kindly at our carelessness and worries, joyfully handing us another piece of bread to wake us up from our wondering..”

“Kuna mambo yanatokea hapa ulimwenguni ambayo yanafanya nikiri uwepo wa Mungu kwa asilimia kubwa. Wanasayansi wanasema ulimwengu ulianzishwa na mlipuko wa ‘Big Bang’, uliotokea takribani miaka bilioni 14 iliyopita, kutoka katika kitu kidogo zaidi kuliko ncha ya sindano, lakini hawatuambii nini kilisababisha mlipuko huo utokee au hicho kitu kidogo kuliko ncha ya sindano kilitoka au kilikuwa wapi. Wanaendelea kusema kuwa baada ya ‘Big Bang’ kutakuwepo na ‘Big Crunch’, ambapo ulimwengu utarudia hali yake ya awali ya udogo kuliko ncha ya sindano, na kila kitu kinachoonekana leo ulimwenguni hakitaonekana tena. Hapo sasa ndipo utata unapokuja. Mlipuko wa ‘Big Bang’ ulipotokea ulimwengu ulilipuka na kusambaa pande zote nne za ulimwengu kwa mwendokasi wa zaidi ya kilometa milioni 2 kwa saa, mpaka hivi leo unavyoonekana na bado unaendelea kusambaa. Kutokana na dhana ya ‘Big Crunch’, wanasayansi wanaamini ulimwengu utapanuka ila baadaye utapungua mwendo na utarudi mwanzo kabisa mahali ulipolipukia. Lakini mwaka 1995 wanasayansi hao hao waligundua kitu. Ulimwengu – badala ya kupungua mwendo wa kupanuka kama wanasayansi walivyokuwa wakitabiri – sasa unaongeza mwendo, tena kwa mwendokasi ambao haujawahi kutokea. Hiki ni nini kinachosababisha ulimwengu uongeze mwendokasi kiasi hicho badala ya kuupunguza? Hicho ni nini ambacho ulimwengu unapanukia? Wanasayansi hawana jibu. Wanasingizia kitu kinaitwa ‘dark matter’, maada ambayo haijawahi kuonekana, kwamba ndicho kinachosababisha ulimwengu uongeze mwendokasi kwa kiwango hicho ambacho hakijawahi kutokea; na hicho ambacho ulimwengu unapanukia wanahisi ulimwengu wetu unapanukia katika ulimwengu mwingine, kwa mujibu wa dhana nyingine kabisa iitwayo ‘multiverse’ au ‘meta-universe’. Kuna kitu kinaitwa ‘Higgs boson’ – chembe ndogo inayosemekana kuhusika na uzito (‘mass’) wa chembe ndogo 16 zilizomo ndani ya atomu, kasoro chembe ya mwanga, iliyopotea mara tu baada ya mlipuko wa ulimwengu wa ‘Big Bang’ miaka bilioni 13.7 iliyopita katika kipindi kilichoitwa ‘epoch’ – ambayo ilianza kutafutwa katika maabara za CERN, Uswisi, toka mwaka 1964, maabara ambazo kazi yake kubwa ni kutengeneza mazingira ya mwanzo kabisa ya mlipuko wa ‘Big Bang’, kusudi wanasayansi waone kama wanaweza kubahatisha kuiona na kuidhibiti hiyo bosoni. Bosoni itakapopatikana wanasayansi watajua siri ya ‘dark matter’, watajua jinsi ulimwengu unavyofanya kazi na jinsi ulivyoumbwa na jibu la kitendawili cha ‘Standard Model’ litapatikana. Hiyo ni kazi ngumu. Ndiyo maana ‘Higgs boson’ mwaka 1993 iliitwa ‘The God Particle’. Yaani, wanasayansi wanahisi kuna muujiza wa Kimungu na huenda wasiipate kabisa hiyo bosoni. Wanasema waliipata mwaka 2013. Lakini hiyo waliyoipata bado ina utata. Kutokana na kushindwa huko kwa sayansi na historia, kutokana na kushindwa kwa sayansi kutengeneza binadamu au mnyama, kutokana na miujiza iliyorekodiwa katika vitabu vitakatifu; naamini, Mungu yupo.”

“Wanasayansi wana uwezo wa kupeleleza hadi kipindi cha karne ya kwanza ambapo Yesu aliishi, alikufa, alifufuka na alipaa kwenda mbinguni, na wana uwezo wa kujua mambo mengi kwa hakika yaliyofanyika katika kipindi hicho na hata katika kipindi cha kabla ya hapo. Kuna miujiza ambayo Yesu aliifanya ambayo haiko ndani ya Biblia. Kwa mfano, Biblia inasema Yesu alizaliwa ndani ya zizi la ng’ombe wakati sayansi inasema alizaliwa nje ya zizi la ng’ombe; na muujiza wa kwanza kuufanya ambao hauko ndani ya Biblia ni kutembea mara tu baada ya kuzaliwa, na watu na ndege wa angani kuganda kabla ya kuzaliwa Masihi na kabla ya wakunga kufika kumsaidia Maria Magdalena kujifungua. Akiwa na umri wa miaka sita, sayansi inasema, Yesu alikuwa akicheza na mtoto mwenzake juu ya paa la nyumba ya jirani na mara Yesu akamsukuma mwenzake kutoka juu hadi chini na mwenzake huyo akafariki papo hapo. Watu walipomsonga sana Yesu kwa kumtuhumu kuwa yeye ndiye aliyesababisha kifo cha mwenzake, na kwamba wangemfungulia mashtaka, Yesu alikataa katakata kuhusika na kifo hicho. Lakini walipozidi kumsonga, aliusogelea mwili wa rafiki yake kisha akamwita na kumwambia asimame. Yule mtoto alisimama! Huo ukawa muujiza mkubwa wa kwanza wa Yesu Kristo, kufufua mtu nje ya maandiko matakatifu. Kuna mifano mingi inayodhihirisha uwepo wa Mungu ambayo wanasayansi hawawezi hata kuipatia majibu. Tukio la Yoshua kusimamisha jua limewashangaza wanasayansi hadi nyakati za leo. Mwanzoni mwa miaka ya 70 wanasayansi walijaribu kurudisha muda nyuma kwa kompyuta kuona kama kweli wangekuta takribani siku moja imepotea kama ilivyorekodiwa katika Biblia. Cha kushangaza, cha kushangaza mno, walikuta saa 23 na dakika 20 zimepotea katika mazingira ambayo hawakuweza na hawataweza kuyaelewa. Walipochunguza vizuri walikuta ni kipindi cha miaka ya 1500 KK (Jumanne tarehe 22 Julai) ambacho ndicho tukio la Yoshua la kusimamisha jua na kusogeza mwezi nyuma digrii 10, ambazo ni sawa na mzunguko wa dakika 40, lilipotokea. Kwa kutumia elimu ya wendo, elimu ya kupanga miaka na matukio ya Kibiblia, dunia iliumbwa Jumapili tarehe 22 Septemba mwaka 4000 KK. Hata hivyo, mahesabu ya kalenda yanaonyesha kuwa Septemba 22 ilikuwa Jumatatu (si Jumapili) na kwamba kosa hilo labda lilisababishwa na siku ya Yoshua iliyopotea. Hayo yote ni kwa mujibu wa Profesa C. A. Totten, wa Chuo Kikuu cha Yale, katika kitabu chake cha ‘Joshua’s Long Day and the Dial of Ahaz: A Scientific Vindication and a Midnight Cry’ kilichochapishwa mwaka 1890. Kama hakuna Mungu iliwezekanaje Yoshua aombe jua lisimame na jua likasimama kweli? Iliwezekanaje Yesu aseme atakufa, atafufuka na atapaa kwenda mbinguni na kweli ikatokea kama alivyosema? Ndani ya Biblia kuna tabiri 333 zilizotabiri maisha yote ya Yesu Kristo hapa duniani na zote zilitimia – bila kupungua hata moja. Utasemaje hapo hakuna Mungu? Mungu yupo, naamini, sijui. Tukio la Yesu kufa, kufufuka na kupaa kwenda mbinguni si la vitabu vitakatifu pekee, hata sayansi inakubaliana na hilo.”

“Humans have better wings than birds: Human mind is a perfect wing and with this wing we can fly to some farthermost places no bird can ever dream! Yes, mind is a wing; and when it comes to flying man is the most sophisticated bird on earth!”

“When the weaver bird flies, nobody talks; when the busy bee flies, no one will make comments... But when a human being begins to fly, you begin to hear talks in the town such as "abomination!... where did he get the wings from?". Never mind! Your dreams are your wings, so decide to fly!”