Tag: birds

would you rather ?

progstenLeave a comment

over the years i have come up with quite a few would you rather this is my favorite

Would you rather have control over all birds in the world or all insects?

some rules of this question

  1. you can control them from anywhere anytime and as many as you want at a time
  2. you can make them do whatever you want either by general commands like “attack them” or “Go get me a bag of chips from the nearest gas station”
  3. you could also control them like they were a drone or some sort of remote control thing like your guiding them with your mind
  4. all birds are included not just the flying ones example: ostrich and penguin
  5. for bugs, you get the Insecta class which includes things like bees, mosquitos, all flys, fleas, and many more
  6. A common misconception when asking this question is that things like spiders are included in the insects the answer is no.
    • Now the original question was to control all birds or all bugs however I changed it to insects because if we said all bugs then that might be considered part of the Arthropod which includes things like spiders which is close however it also has things like crabs and crawfish so i felt it was best to just use insects.

Some interesting facts for both sides

  1. the biomass(the total quantity or weight of organisms in a given area or volume) of birds is about .008 of all animals while insects is about 1/3 of all animals
  2. there are about 80 billion birds and roughly 10 quintillion insects
  3. the fastest insect is the dragonfly clocking in at ~33 mph the fastest bird is the
    The peregrine falcon at ~186 mph
  4. the biggest insect is the giant weta(I wouldn’t recommend googling) at about 3.9 inches while the biggest bird is the Common Ostrich at about 9 feet tall

For my decisions I choose to control the birds

please let me know what would you choose and why!

https://www.google.com/search?q=all+classes+of+arthropods&sca_esv=579068902&rlz=1C5CHFA_enUS974US975&ei=q5dEZaC4G9rbkPIPspKGuAg&oq=all+classes+of+&gs_lp=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&sclient=gws-wiz-serp#vhid=YZk9Ml0MTMJMZM&vssid=l

An Observation

pinkcube18Leave a comment

From here I see my campus from an aerial view. If I turn around, I see the backs of the display books in the library. I feel as if I am spying on my own classes, looking through the glass as if admiring a fish tank. The empty space is filled with reflections of light as the mountains project onto the classroom air. The ceiling is as busy as the ground, as the light blends the air the way water blends light.

The soft, patchy hills feel uninviting up close as the pine needles keep me seated delicately. The towering trees are no mightier than grass in the valley, as the vertical space of campus is dominated by mountains, surrounded by empty air.

The birds aren’t tied to the ground. The space is theirs, and they are free to exist on a higher plane. They have their own conversations up here. They chatter amongst each other as I do with my friends in the confines of the trees. 

For this moment, I am with them. I exist on the higher plane, resisting the hour where I will return to my path on the game board of campus. The ground is vast, and I never considered my ability to break my trails. I’ve existed on this campus for years, and I’ve traced the same route each day, etching my footprints into the ground. I’ve left spaces abandoned and ignored. There are pockets in the trees where I’ve never set foot. The heart of campus is in the green leaves, though I experience life on the white concrete, referencing the trees as accessories.

From afar, these trees are the campus. Each little patch on the mountain is a three dimensional plant that stands alone. The buildings are silent amongst the loud winds that rush through the branches, and are invisible behind the deep, warm tones of nature. Before returning to my concrete trail, I will keep in mind where the life of campus resides. My existence circles the trees, and my classroom is not as tall as I once believed.

Image Credit: Home Stratosphere

Ride the Wind

fishfaceshawtyLeave a comment

As i sit and watch the trees

The leaves flow in the breeze

The leaves flow going wherever they are taken

Free to float without a care

i wish to live like that

As i sit and watch to realine

i sit and think about the birds

They live their life as i live mine

The beautiful bluejays

Not a care in the world

Riding the wind with the leaves

What is it like?

Living those days

But now i wonder,

What if i was one of their kind

Where would i go

What will i see

i wonder how

How would i feel

What would i enjoy

Will i get to ride the wind

With the leaves in the breeze

And the bluejays

flying for days

Do i want that

Im happy with this

i like to sit and watch

But now I wonder,

What if i could ride the white ferrari

on the skyline 

to the nights of another place

See a new face

As i sit and watch 

the leaves flow in the trees

i think about a place

That tells a story

Where people have come and gone

But i create that bond

i wonder if i can find that place 

As the birds fly with grace.

Paper Cranes

slimjimsilversLeave a comment

Last night I found a stack of colored paper. They were 12″x12″ and dusty from having sat on my shelf for the past three years. I don’t remember why I got them, but I’ve always remembered them being there.

I took them from the shelf and I dropped them on my desk, their purpose still uncertain, and I didn’t expect myself to do anything.

I then proceeded to spend a while doing homework, doing laundry, and preparing dinner. In this time I had forgotten about the stack of papers and allowed myself to get lost in the routine that I had mindlessly adopted over the past month.

When I came back to my desk while going through the motions of cleaning my room which I now do routinely as well, the stack of papers had a new appeal to them. It posed itself as an opportunity to escape my regimen. So I sat down and I flipped through the seven different colors that repeated themselves tirelessly and considered what I could feasibly do.

I never considered myself to be particularly talented or artistic in any way, art classes have always marked themselves as the low points in my grade book. But I was suddenly inspired to do something with them. I knew I couldn’t draw so I eliminated that, my painting skills were on par with my drawing, but folding paper, I was a beast at folding paper.

Photo: Museum of fine arts, St. Petersburg

Now I had never really attempted Origami, but I approached it rather confidently because of my unexpected prowess in the field of paper airplane design. So I went online, and I decided to make a crane.

When I finally completed my first crane about 15 minutes later, it looked decent, and that presented itself as an incredible surprise.

But I had done it, I’d done something that wasn’t typical of me during this drawn-out period of self-isolation, and it was invigorating. I had suddenly found a simultaneous outlet and power I had over the nationwide restrictions.

I was restrained to my home, I had little power in that regard. But nothing could stop me from making those little paper cranes. In the last 12 hours, I have made an embarrassing number of paper cranes but I don’t see an end in sight.

If only I could make them fly.

A While

localdreamerwithapenLeave a comment

It’s been a while since we’ve all been birds,

since we’ve embraced our cold grey skies,

photo credit: ak9.picdn.net

flapped our wings,

chirped a song,

scattered across the horizon,

with no care but its infinite existence.

It’s been a while since we’ve been wildflowers,

since we’ve sprouted with the spring,

mismatched our colors,

photo credit: cdn.pixabay.com

and lived within that beauty of simply living.

It’s been a while since

we’ve shot our birds

and mowed down our flowers.

It’s been a while since we’ve figured that

there’s a different way to live,

with scary grey skies and plain flowers.

It’s been a while since we’ve forgotten our ways,

our happy freedom and

our beautiful purposelessness.

It’s only now that we realize that

there’s no going back.

Bird Boy

instalocker

alien photo super legit completly real

Introduction: The year is 4041. Earth was dying. The only things besides humans were birds. Then, earth made contact with another planet who invited them to come live with them. All humans fled Earth to live on this new planet. All except one infant boy who was left behind. When the humans left, the friendly aliens restored Earth, bringing back all the trees and flowers. Earth was back to normal, like humans had never been there. Sadly, the aliens couldn’t bring back the animals. The boy is raised by birds and this is his story.

“Baka baka” said the boy. His calls were sad and poorly pronounced. “Baka baka” he said again while sitting on the ground. He was left behind for the winter, and not even the mama bird would stay with him. He was an outcast – he couldn’t fly. The five-year-old boy now crawled around the world, never knowing about walking, he searches for a teacher or a friend. Everywhere he goes sees birds and hears birds, but they will never come and play.

The boy is sad, because whenever he says his call there will be no sounds. The air, filled with birds, is silent like he is all alone. Then, a few minutes later there will be anything but silence – birds would start chirping and singing again. Sometimes, the boy would wonder why he can’t fly, or why he doesn’t have feathers. But he didn’t wonder long. He was easily distracted.

Years went on. The five-year-old boy is now 35, and no longer calls for the other birds. He just crawls with his head down, never looking at the sky, because it saddens him. As he was crawling, he hit his head on a tree. He was hurt, and by instinct yelled “Baka baka”. The skies were silent, until a female bird landed right next to him. The bird looked similar to him. She was tall and featherless. The only difference was she could fly. “Baka?” she said. “Ba baka” he responded. She wanted to know why he was on the ground. He said he didn’t know how to fly.

Suddenly the female bird pick up the man and said “Baka ba,” which meant believe. She let go. He flaps his arms, and is about to hit the ground, when suddenly, he starts floating elegantly into the sky. Boom! A loud, unfamiliar sound was in the sky. It was a shot, and it had hit the man. He fell from the sky to his death. The female bird landed, and turned from what looked like a human to the aliens, and said: “Bird Boy test successful. How is the Fish Boy doing?”  shortly after there was a response “Fish Boy is doing well, he can go weeks now without air.” The alien that taught the man to fly said: “Take them to the ship. We need to run more tests. We need to figure out why they can convince themselves to do the impossible.”

Sweet Sting Sunday.

Yourcupatea1 Comment

Bee
I had my first bee sting of the year today, and man it hurt a lot more than I remembered.

So I was casually reading my book as you do on a Sunday afternoon, admiring the view from my porch chair and relaxing in the shade of the huge oaks over head. The birds chirped away singing sweet songs as they played and splashed in the water of the bird bath unaware of the dangers that accompanied them in their play.

Yes, it turns out bees like water too. In fact one may say it is the typical hang out or meeting spot during the spring/ summer months. Little did I know reading my book sweetly would I become a target for their fun.

Now I’m no wimp, and if a bee were to buzz around me I would remain calm and still but when one lodges itself in your finger it’s not that easy to do either of these things.

It was well and truly stuck, chained down by the sting that was embedded in the tip of my middle finger and you know what I was scared to pull it out incase it stung me. Obviously it had done that already but in a moment of panic I just let it stay there wiping it off carefully, after a few minutes, with a pair of tweezers afraid of its next move.

Little did I know its next joke was to leave the sting in me, how cleaver, leaving me deal with the pain for a little longer. I’m sure it sought amusement from that.

I eventually managed to get it out after a refusal for help from my father “because he didn’t have his glasses,” but luckily my Mum came to hand proving her skills on Mother’s Day.

So now I have the biggest swollen middle finger ever. I may just have to go and use it swearing at the rest of the bees.