AnnaMR had a poignant final post about a bird who had made a snow angel, then thought better of it, got up, brushed itself off, and scooted.
So we have been looking for that bird ever since, freely giving in to our obsessional natures.
The bird has been spotted. It was actually an ice bird, Avis Rara Glacis, which had made the one-point landing, woozled into the snow bank, then skedaddled. We were lucky to get a photo of it before the summer.
photo: onfocus.com
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13 comments:
This made me smile, Montag.
I am glad of it.
I had this picture for a very long time, and I had not seen it for an epoch almost as long.
But when I saw it by chance, I knew where I had seen that bird before.
What happened to Anna?
Beloved Montag - hei. That is the most beautiful bird I have seen, I think, and (while hopelessly delayed in my actions) I thank you profusely for it.
Thank you. Profusely.
Hoping you are well and appreciating you a very great deal.
x
(Anonymous? Hello. Nothing happened to me, and many things, just like people in general, I suppose. But, you know, I like it that you ask. A very great deal, as it happens. Thank you.)
Finally someone answered Anonymous. Beats me why I didn't. However, this has been a storm tossed year for me. There was a time I went incommunicado again.
I mean, who in their right mind would not want to duck out of this no-smoking madhouse for a few moments to gasp on a freedom cigarette?
(Hmmm...was "freedom gin" in the novel 1984?)
As for Anna, I know you're well. I have caught sight of you flirting with The Periodic Englishman during Ashes, so I know you're out and about.
Hush, Montag, that wasn't me, that was an undercover alter ego. Don't be revealing me to all, please. I'm sure and certain no-one else spotted me, that's how cunning I believe my false moustache to have been. (Flirting? Flirting? Is that how it came across? Good grief. Thou makest me blush, esteemed Sir.)
But you're absolutely right - gagging and gasping on a freedom cigarette in these madnessy madhouse times is sometimes the only thing for it. Even if it makes you wheeze and splutter when you finally return inside. Which I might do. Making a start, as you can see. Here, in fact.
x
Everyone flirts with TPE.
If you have ever seen Fellini's film " 8 1/2 " you know we feel like his main character's associates:
"Where have you been? We've been waiting since winter!"
I have glanced at those snowy imprints times innumerable.
Ha. We do, don't we (flirt with TPE)? For verily, Montag my dear, I have seen you yourself (yes, et tu, Montag) dipping your keyboard not just once but twice into a pot of golden wit and sparkling linguistic ability to speak to him. And very entertaining it is too, for all of us (I like watching, too, you see. Hush).
But no, no I haven't seen 8 1/2. Of course, since you mentioned it here, I have been down to youtube, watching snippets and tidbits. However, some while ago (possible quite a long while ago, given the extent of my Lenten excesses), over at the esteemed House of Signs, you mentioned another Fellini which I have seen and love - Giulietta degli spiriti - and somehow in connection with me, being reminded of me by it or of it by me or something akin to that. I dithered about over there at the time, wanting to respond to the enormously satisfying compliment, but - alas - failed, in the end, for I was deep in the lame-tongued silent stage. However. I will now tell you how totally happy that thing was for me, and how terribly I like that film, too (sending you the final scene here, because I always really liked how the grandpa called her his little cutlet). Also I must tell you, that in her youth, my mother was said to resemble Giulietta Masina, although not as her degli spiriti incarnation, but more as she appeared as Gelsomina. Something about the artichoke face thing. I would agree, too, she did look like Gelsomina.
See, incidentally, how cleverly I've led you down the garden path and away from the difficult issue of just where the hell I've been? Totally smooth of me, I feel. I will be back in my blog house, soon enough, I promise, but I can't be more precise than that. The time is coming, mind. May I just say how much I've been enjoying reading you, though, in my absence and via my google reader? And, while I'm at it, was that you at the kitchen table one Sunday morning? I hope so, for I waved to you very energetically.
I'll be seeing you, Montag. Soon enough, I hope.
x
Yes, we do. And we go so far as to emulate him by having a comment section buried in an obscure part of town, where we go in hoods and capes for our rendez-vous.
I looked at the bits of 8 1/2 on youtube. The quality is pretty poor. Of course, my favorite was La Saraghina. I named my motorcycle Saraghina.
I saw Giulietta degli Spiriti so long ago. I saw 8 1/2 long ago, too, but I've seen it about 40 times since. (seriously!)
I have to admit I have forgotten what I said about Giulietta.
Maybe it was that Woking Wet Spot Machine that triggered it. (there...you've forgotten that. I can never forget it: such a perfect "steampunk" machine for adolescent boys dreaming of La Saraghina!)
I don't want you to be precise. That would be boring. Wherever you've been, they are probably smiling, while we walk around with long, droopy faces.
And yes, that was me at the kitchen table. And that was you!! I thought it was some lady of the town whose daughter I had outraged - there were one or two at the time - and I ducked out the servants' entrance.
Blast!
You owe me a fine Sunday breakfast!
I left mine on the table, and hot-footed it to the railway station, heading south to Denmark and - eventually - neutral Switzerland!
Neutral Switzerland is known for its cheese, Montag, so I would be inclined to believe that you replaced the fine lost breakfast with some fondue (cheese for mains, chocolate for afters). But I'll see what I can do regarding replacing your loss.
I miss TPE. Don't you? The whole blogging experience and Blogoslavia as a place and entity is not the same while he is absent/quiet. So going about in cloaks and capes and hoods, emulating him, is about as close to him as we can get. A sort of WWTPED for our times, no? Besides which, capes are becoming, making all of us look good, adding inches and removing pounds to and from those of us short and stumpy, and a (false) promise of possible voluptuousness to those of us tall and lanky. So hurrah for capes and praying for a swift return of TPE.
And no, of course I haven't forgotten the Woking Wet Spot Machine - it was the thing that the marvellous young Dr But Why? published, oh my good God, it must be three years ago. I see you published it recently, too. What a thing. Who could forget.
My dog wears a permanent dog smile, because we see each other comparatively much. Mind you, she also does a very good line in the droopy face and accusing, gentle eyes. Dogs are that way. How are your two fantastically-named creatures?
Hope your Sunday is the best, Montag. Don't leave your breakfast on the table - it's only me, not some stern lady of the town.
x
Zoloft and Cymbalta are what their names imply...a remedy for melancholy.
OK. What's WWTPED?
What Would TPE Do.
I did tell you, didn't I, that for a very long while I thought your dogs were named after some obscure deities of an obscure culture.
I felt a mite foolish when I found out (I think you told me, or it was in a post of yours, or something), but given it was your dogs, I thought it was an easy mistake to make.
When I think of it now, I think I wasn't that far off from the truth initially, either.
Really.
I would never, ever name a dog after a deity, regardless of the fact that it may be a deity of whom I am no devotee.
I mean, can you imagine standing outside, yelling "Moloch! Moloch! Fire that consumes children! Come home, boy!"
And no, you weren't all that far from the truth.
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