Penguins Three

Emperor Penguins

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Image copyright Daniel J Cox

I decided to research penguins and death and came across this extraordinary image, captured by cameraman Daniel J Cox. It shows a colony of Emperor penguins bowed down in grief after their chicks died.

Image copyright Daniel J Cox

The chicks' bodies lie strewn across the Antarctic ice

Penguins have relatively few predators and can, unusually for wild animals, die of old age. They can live for many years, up to 15 years for Adelie penguins, and remarkably, 40 years for Emperors.  Dead penguins are consumed by scavengers like skuas and petrels. Those few that die on land not covered by ice do not decay but dry out. Eventually thy are ablated by strong winds and become dust. Occasionally penguin fossils are found.

The oldest penguin fossils, from 10 million to 12 million years ago, have been discovered in South Africa. Of the 17 species of penguins found today 13 are threatened or endangered, with some, like the Galapagos penguins, on the edge of extinction. You can read more about penguins here and here.

Penguins Two

It seems that penguins are the theme for me today. Some penguins, like the Adelie penguins, mate for life while others, like the Emperor penguins, are serially monogamous. For some penguins, the Humboldts for example, there is a degree of same sex activity, even though there may be sufficient partners of the opposite sex to choose from.

The following video clip shows Adelie, Gentoo and Chinstrap penguins in Antarctica. Some sections have been speeded up.

The second video is an information animation designed for children but we can all learn from it;-)

There are many collective nouns for penguins: colony, creche, formality, huddle, parade, parcel, rookery and waddle. If I had to make up a collective noun I'd choose 'a perfection of penguins.' What would you choose?

I've just read the following in a recent copy of our Community magazine.
Do you ever wonder why there are no dead penguins to be seen in Antarctica? If a penguin is found dead, members of the colony dig a hole in the ice, using beaks and wings. When the hole is deep enough the dead penguin is rolled into it and buried. Then the penguins gather round in a circle and sing, 'Freeze a jolly good fellow, freeze a jolly good fellow . . . '

Don't believe everything you read . . . ;-)

Penguins

My daughter Susannah is working with Humboldt penguins today.

Images courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

This started me thinking about penguins in general. Susannah's younger sister Bethan has always loved penguins and used to draw them all the time when she was about seven. 

This is a Christmas card Bethan made for her grandmother, my mother.

Bethan reminded me that she used to sing a song called, 'I'm a penguin.' I've searched for it but can't find it. However, I found the following clip from 'Happy Feet' and it's fun so I thought I'd share it here.

Helen Keller

When you are overcome with despair or grief listen to this remarkable woman and count your many blessings.
http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2013/06/27/helen-keller-greatest-regret/
'Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement; nothing can be done without hope.' Helen Keller, 26.06.1880 - 01.06.1968

The Regretful Ecclesiastic

'Fireblossom Friday' at 'Imaginary Garden with Real Toads' invites participants to create a title using one word from two lists  - one of adjectives, the other of nouns - and write a poem. The words were terrifying, regretful, miniscule, inebriated, envious,

reincarnated, obsessive, lovestruck, studious, unexpected and  sherpa, ecclesiastic,

 docent, incubus, Gypsy, zookeeper, CSI, zombie, stripper, prodigy. 

The Regretful Ecclesiastic

His sermons were chilling, his flock afeared

As he threatened penances drastic,

And many young folks foreswore worldly goods

And took to the life monastic.

He stood in the pulpit, raised arms and voice,

And declaimed in tones bombastic,

‘Be assured your sins will find you out,

Judgement Day will be fantastic.’

The years rolled past and his audience shrank,

He saw and waxed more sarcastic,

Then mellowed and his lessons became

Gentler and more scholastic.

At the end of his days as he looked back

On his life ecclesiastic

He wished he had smiled more as he preached

And been less enthusiastic.

Words for Wednesday Soul Mate?

Words for Wednesday

Delores from ’Under The Porch Light’ offers six words as a writing prompt – crystallize, morbid, fragrance, cling, instant, blueprint. Why not visit her and see what other writing has been prompted?

Soul Mate?

It was a blueprint for disaster. She should have known that from the beginning. For an instant, when he said he wanted to buy her some perfume, she found herself clinging to the hope that this time he would buy something she liked. Short of writing a list of her favourite fragrances or, worse, buying one herself and giving it to him to give to her, she could think of no way of persuading him towards the scents she favoured.

Never the most cheerful of companions, he was becoming daily more morbid and sadly she realised that their relationship was never going to crystallize into the long-term partnership she had envisaged. She would have to look elsewhere for her soul mate.

Resting

Resting . . .

Togetherness, canine style

Bertie and Gus

Jellicoe

Feline togetherness

Isambard and Herschel

A bright light woke us up. Is it supper-time?

Jellicoe and Isambard

Creature of the Wild

Thanks to Josie of ‘Two Shoes Tuesday’ who hosts this writing meme. Her prompts this week are ‘Creature’ or ‘Wild’.

Creature of the Wild

She felt like a Creature of the Wild, living on her wits. Daily she faced her demons with courage, a smile hiding her fear. She addressed them quietly, almost apologetically, in case she incited their derision. The hollow memories of scornful laughter from her earlier days remained with her and informed her current behaviour. She used her cunning to short-circuit their route to discovering her weakness. She digressed, tricking them into focussing on objects beyond her. She amused and entertained them and sometimes sensed a certain camaraderie but as soon as she allowed herself to relax the supposed amity vanished and they were united against her once more.

Each morning she rose and set out, a sick feeling in her stomach, her mouth dry, her pulse racing. Every evening, going home, she congratulated herself on surviving another day. How long would this persist? Could she escape?

As the years rolled by she began to look at her demons through different eyes. It was they who were the Wild Creatures, not her. With greater experience she was able to circumvent their more atrocious behaviour but realised with sadness that her joie de vivre was dying, shrivelling through lack of oxygen, bludgeoned by the relentless repetition of harsh blows. The cudgels were verbal but nonetheless painful.

On her last day she felt triumphant. The demons had never managed to slice through her armour and discover her frailty though some had come close. She listened to the voice of her employer. ‘Today we say farewell to Miss Thomas. She has been a well-loved and respected member of staff and will be greatly missed.’ Polite applause followed.

For years afterwards Miss Thomas had recurring nightmares of her demons rising up against her. They stood and advanced, chanting, ‘No, no, no – we won’t and you can’t make us.’

Why had she ever thought teaching might be an enjoyable profession?

Mag 184 Free as a bird

Artwork by Jeanie Tomanek

Thanks go to Tess Kincaid who organises and hosts this meme J To read more entries please click here. I’m also linking to Open Link Monday at Real Garden With Imaginary Toads.

Mag 184   Free as a Bird

Free

Like

A bird

In a tree,

I’d rest among leaves,

And I’d perch on swaying branches,

I’d take flight and seize my chances,

Wheel and swoop and dive -

Life unbound -

And thrive

And

Sing.

The Mum Test

I’ve just seen this on Facebook and thought it was too good not to shareJ

‘I was out walking with my 4.5-year-old son. He picked up something from the ground and started to put it in his mouth. I took it away from him and asked him not to do that.

'Why?' my son asked.

'Because it's been on the ground, you don't know where it's been, it's dirty and probably has germs,' I replied.

At this point my son looked at me with total admiration and asked, 'Mum, how do you know all this stuff? You are so smart.’

Thinking quickly I replied, ‘All mums know this stuff. It's on the Mum Test. You have to know it or they don't let you be a Mum.'

We walked along in silence for two or three minutes but he was evidently pondering this new information.

'Oh . . . I get it!’ he beamed. 'So if you don't pass the test you have to be the dad.’

'Exactly,’ I replied with a big smile on my face.

Passing Place Mag 183

Mag 183   Passing Place

Photo copyright Steven Kelly

‘Passing Place’ Mick called it and some there were who grinned when he said it while others grimaced and turned aside.

‘You shouldn’t laugh,’ Joe grumbled. ‘It’s not decent. Last week Mrs Williams came back from there. No-one was more shocked than her husband. He thought she’d left – he’d started making arrangements and everything.’

‘That was an upset for sure,’ agreed Mick, ‘But in this job you’ve got to find your humour where you can. Life’s short and all too often nasty.’

They finished their coffee and stood up, stretching and brushing biscuit crumbs from their uniforms. An hour later Joe was removing a corpse to the mortuary. He paused when he had placed the body. Maybe Mick was right and the morgue was a place of passing souls. ‘Spirits wouldn’t linger long here,’ he thought. ‘It’s peaceful, right enough, but cold and unwelcoming.’ He left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Thanks go to Tess Kincaid who hosts and organises this meme. To read more entries please click here.

fibonacci or doggerel by any other name . . .

Image by Dr. René Hoffmann, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons 

The challenge from The Imaginary Garden with Real Toads is to write a poem in the Fibonacci form - 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8. It appealed to me this rainy Sunday morning and so I over-egged the pudding, so to speak, and produced three poor examples, all reversing the sequence. The first is inspired by the Nautilus image and yes, I know it's not a mollusc, but that's the first thing that came to mind! 

Snail

Shell

Empty

Abandoned

Once mollusc’s retreat

Cast aside for eternity

Unless another entity

Chances upon it

Fancies it

Moves in

Lives

There.

The second deals with the Ashes test matches in which two nations, England and Australia, play a series of five matches to decide the destination of the Ashes, a tiny urn containing the ashes of two cricket balls. 

Dawn

Drear

Summer

Grey clouds loom

No cricket today

The Ashes have been decided

Though England’s batsmen derided

For playing poorly

But they won.

Lucky

Some

Say.

The third effort refers to our house full of dogs, with our daughter's three Labradors, spending their summer holidays. 

What?

How

Many

Dogs are there

Staying in your house this summer?

Six Labradors, one Dalmatian

Three dogs will go home next Tuesday

Leaving just the four

Who live here

Always

With

Us.

Robin Cooper gets in the bath

Robert Popper’s alter ego Robin Cooper continues his monologue on bathing . . .

My favourite line in this made me laugh out loud - 'I'm a traditionalist.'

The guitar music in the background to these audio clips is played (and probably composed) by Robert Popper.

listen to ‘Robin Cooper gets in the bath’ on Audioboo