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Susan McCarthy
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Sounds like you've been hearing anti-raven propaganda. There are no droppings in the nest. Once chicks have fledged & are out of the nest, I'm sure they'd eat any worm they spotted. But in my (volunteer) work with birds, I never see worms in their droppings. (I don't work with ravens, though.) There are surely microscopic worms, but ravens can't see them. Ravens are omnivores, & eat different arrays of foods in different habitats. City ravens probably provide a lot of human food/garbage to their chicks (you gonna eat those fries...?). Ravens in agricultural areas will provide a lot of grain to their chicks. Ravens in forest or tundra areas will feed chicks a lot more carrion, although ravens everywhere like a carcass.
That sculpture is called The Wish Hounds. It's in Croft Wood, Swindon, Sussex. Lou Hamilton is the sculptor. There's some interesting information about it at: When I put it up I didn't realize that Wish Hounds were scary creatures of Sussex legend. I thought of them as aspirational dogs, and I'll probably go on thinking of them that way. Incidentally, if you mouse over most of the illustrations on this blog, text will come up. Sometimes it just says who took the photo and what the licensing is, and sometimes I feel compelled to add a snarky remark. That'll make things a little less enigmatic, which may or may not be good....
It's seriously catchy.
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Mar 15, 2010
Not mockerous enough? But maybe it was my fault. Not everyone can do the "when a daddy and mommy treeshrew love each other very much..." conversation in public, and I was standing around in what may have been a visibly negative manner. How could they know that my dark thoughts had to do with inadequate signage?
I don't know, but it's really true. Maybe because museums and zoos are thought to be Educational For the Kids and we read to kids? Maybe because we are subconsciously resentful that we know so little about birds and beasts that we feel compelled to show that at least we can read? Maybe because we, hmmm, are filled with a vague desire to communicate when we behold these creatures, and we displace that into conversation with the exhibit by means of reading? Got me.
Like a bullet with your name on it, tied up in moire ribbon.
I thought about drawing the parallel, but I wanted to keep it short...
Portuguese water dingo? Staffordshire bull dingo? Pekeadingo? Dingoranian!