Featured: Red-crowned Cranes - Dance
Diary of a deviantART SweaterSeptember 7th, 2010
Fifty-nine sweaters and I arrived at the deviantART headquarters today. It sure is big here. We were left in a hallway for a little bit (I could peek out a crack) but we got stacked against a wall somewhere.
I'm a little scared.
September 13th, 2010
Today, a man opened our box. Since I was on top he grabbed me and held me up and looked at me critically. "Perfect!" he said, and I couldn't help but blush.
September 14th, 2010
I got moved away from all the others and stuffed into a little box. It's really, really dark in here, because there's no light coming in the cracks. Now I'm definitely scared, but at least it's all warm and cosy.
September 17th, 2010
There was a whole lot of jostling today. It's half exciting, half terrifying.
September 21st, 2010
I've arrived! I woke up to the sound of tape ripping, and then the box being thrown open. The light was blinding, but I quickly saw the grinning face of a girl. She squealed and threw
AlbatrossNow if there ever was a bird
More regal than the rest
'Twould surely be the albatross
That fits this symbol best.
Far whiter than the white sea-foam
He flies along each day,
And for the ancient mariner
Hails thus from far away.
The world must look much different when
One spends such time in flight,
Below the sky, above the brine,
A monotonous sight.
This lonely bird is yet the same
That at the season's height,
Will court the fairest lady-bird
As if he were her knight.
A curious dance they do perform
And if they do it right,
She'll then say 'yes', and I digress,
They'll 'get to it' outright.
Yet he is just a data point
A beak length here, a tag on there
And still they do persist.
The albatross wants to be free
And kicking, does insist,
'Till he takes soar, just as before
The regal albatross.
Bird's Eye View: The HawkBird's Eye View: The Hawk
Flying over the land, I head over towards my favourite trench for my daily snail hunt. As I fly over, I survey the land and I find it strange that the ground is all covered with odd things. I never learned the name of these things. They were lifeless, unlike other tiny things like Jacanas and hummingbirds and they never moved on their own. Only when you happen to hit them or when a dog takes it or if a jacana baby gets stuck inside if the wind blows then they move.
I continue flying towards the trench and arrive in a matter of minutes. I take my perch on the dead silk-cotton tree and notice that the things are floating in the trench too. Then it hits me. Maybe when I was away looking for a mate away from here, the wingless must have had one of those strange celebration-rituals or whatever. I narrow my eyes at the stupid things. I mean, we birds we shed feathers, but eventually those feathers vanish. Why don't these things vanish over time? They're just there..
A story of a hawk and a mousePinging of wings
Sharp eyes locked to a target
Downhill in the air
Soaring with the speed of wind.
A mouse is shocked
It tries to escape
From sharp, shining claws
But it's no use.
The mouse feels the cold claws
It rises to the air and knows
That its days have come to an end.
The mouse sails in the press of the claws
To a crag
Then it drops down
Preparing itself to the end.
Suddenly it feels
It pets mouse's fur
And the mouse looks astonished up to the hawk.
Did you think that the hawk wanted to eat the mouse?
It just wanted a friend
Now they are sitting side by side
And watching the world.
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