Am I blue? You’d be too … were you a Passerina cyanea

14 Responses to Am I blue? You’d be too … were you a Passerina cyanea

1. Giles Hawkins says:

   16 May 2008 at 12:31 PM

   Coat tailing on the accuracy in things Shakespearean – or at least of that age, the famous architect of the period was of course, Inigo Jones, not indigo as in the colour. [Yes, I know…. joke.]
   
2. Giles Hawkins says:

   16 May 2008 at 12:33 PM

   Coat-tailing on the accuracy in things Shakespearean – or at least of that age, the famous architect of the period was of course, Inigo Jones, not indigo as in the colour.
3. Roman Sacristan says:

   16 May 2008 at 2:10 PM

   Could … not … resist … any … longer.

   “My name is Indigo Montoya. You stole my birdseed, prepare to die!”
4. Paul says:

   16 May 2008 at 2:11 PM

   Perhaps Catullus 2, Fr. Z?

   Passer, deliciae meae puellae,
   quicum ludere, quem in sinu tenere,
   cui primum digitum dare appetenti
   et acris solet incitare morsus,
   cum desiderio meo nitenti
   carum nescio quid lubet iocari
   et solaciolum sui doloris,
   credo ut tum gravis acquiescat ardor:
   tecum ludere sicut ipsa possem
   et tristis animi levare curas!

   Little bird, my girlfriend loves you
   and loves to play with you, to hold you
   in her bosom, to dangle her finger
   for you to nip at. When she,
   the radiant girl of my longing,
   delights in sweet silly games with you,
   I think she is seeking comfort for her sorrows,
   to soothe her troubled heart.
   If only my sad soul could find such relief
   by playing with you!
   -Translation from Wikipedia
5. Paul says:

   16 May 2008 at 2:12 PM

   Perhaps Catullus 2, Fr. Z?

   Passer, deliciae meae puellae,
   quicum ludere, quem in sinu tenere,
   cui primum digitum dare appetenti
   et acris solet incitare morsus,
   cum desiderio meo nitenti
   carum nescio quid lubet iocari
   et solaciolum sui doloris,
   credo ut tum gravis acquiescat ardor:
   tecum ludere sicut ipsa possem
   et tristis animi levare curas!

   Little bird, my girlfriend loves you
   and loves to play with you, to hold you
   in her bosom, to dangle her finger
   for you to nip at. When she,
   the radiant girl of my longing,
   delights in sweet silly games with you,
   I think she is seeking comfort for her sorrows,
   to soothe her troubled heart.
   If only my sad soul could find such relief
   by playing with you!
   -Translation from Wikipedia
6. RichR says:

   16 May 2008 at 2:48 PM

   You bring us news of supernatural (liturgical) beauty as well as natural (wildlife) beauty.

   thank you, fr. zuhlsdorf.
7. David L Alexander says:

   16 May 2008 at 2:56 PM

   The pictures have been fascinating. I’ve never actually seen an indigo bunting before, only heard of them. I’m sure they’re more stunning in person.
8. DebbieInCt says:

   16 May 2008 at 3:12 PM

   oh, Fr., these pictures of birds are just wonderful, thank you so much!
9. Fr Seán Finnegan says:

   16 May 2008 at 3:43 PM

   As for Catullus, it would have to be the brown one (or a near relation): we don’t get blue ones in Europe. But I seem to remember being told at University that the sparrow was a code for something else……… ahem. But then perhaps in the early 80s people just had minds like that.
10. Mark says:

    16 May 2008 at 4:00 PM

    I have heard cowbirds are bad news…something along the line of planting their eggs in other birds’ nests. As for Catullus, I would be happy to learn that he was writing of either one…
11. Michael says:

    16 May 2008 at 4:17 PM

    Great photos! Mr. Chirping Sparrow is actually Mr. Chipping Sparrow…….maybe it was just a typo.
12. mastigia says:

    16 May 2008 at 4:46 PM

    David Alexander:

    “I’m sure they’re more stunning in person.”

    I’m sure in person they are truly stunning. But not as stunning as nightingales, which, as told by Joannes Jonston in his De Avibus Libri VI: “Caesares juvenes habuere luscinias Graeco atque Latino sermone dociles.” (Young princes used to keep nightingales that could be taught Greek and Latin.) He also goes on to mention that: “three nightingales kept in Ratisbonne in 1546 would repeat in the silence of the night everything they heard said during the day from visitors, in German, so clearly that everything could be understood by those who heard them. (Fuere tres Ratisbonae, anno MDXLVI quae, intra noctis silentium, quicquid interdiu ab hospitibus colloquentibus inaudierant, Germanico sermone, ita promere solebant, ut ab audientibus optime intelligerentur.)

    Since catholics don’t want to learn Latin, perhaps Fr. Zuhlsdorf can try teaching the chickadees a few words. Imagine strolling through the wood in New England and a birdie flies by chirping: salve viator, quo vadis? Or better yet: “Qui timetis Dominum, laudate eum” or something like that.
13. Fr. John Zuhlsdorf says:

    16 May 2008 at 8:40 PM

    mastigia: Very interesting! Though I don’t like the “j” in “iuvenes”. Perhaps it is the era of the edition.

    And I think chikadees eat well, and I can whistle nearly exactly like them, so much so that when I do they fly close and perch. My guests at the Sabine Farm can attest to this.

    I don’t think they can learn Latin.
14. GOR says:

    17 May 2008 at 1:15 AM

    Great pictures Father! Yes, the Cowbirds are unfazed by any other visitors and if you get a few of them at once, they can ‘take over’ the feeder. Similar to the Redwinged Blackbirds who herald their arrival with a piercing whistle – as much as to say: “I’m here. Clear out!”

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