A Northern Pygmy Owl looks down on passing humans with not so much a look of fear, as one of disdain: “Why do you keep interfering with my world?”
perhaps you meant?
with not so much a look of fear, as one of disdain
Doug, yes. I had caught the superfluous word even before your comment arrived, but not the spelling mistake. Thank you.
See the blood on my breast? You should fear me!
Nice to see pics of owls and hare, in the snow, just around the Feast of St. Agnes, Jan 21
St. Agnes’ Eve—Ah, bitter chill it was!
The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold;
The hare limp’d trembling through the frozen grass….
Susan, what a marvellous juxtaposition of ideas: my images of a hare and an owl, the posting date on the Feast of St. Agnes, and a John Keats’ poem. I wonder what it is about the readers of what is (primarily) a visual paean to the natural world around me, that brings out (often obscure) poetic references. Mentions have been made of works of Jeffers, Birney, Poe, Coleridge, Ecclesiastes, and now, Keats. However, for a really esoteric reference, you might read about Dr. Wright of Norwich and the caption contest.
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