Posted by: commonpoorwill | May 9, 2009

The Birds are Back in Town!


Sorry it’s been so long. Great to be back in the bird bizzo! Seriously, I messed up; it’s been too long.

Sorry guys.

I’ve had a pretty serious case of science block (i.e. the theories of relativity just going craaaazy around me) and I fell into a wormhole. By which I mean, I discovered the magic of the bottle. Ever since my sweet Aruki fell into hard times, I just haven’t been able to rouse passion within my loins and get into some birds, in a research sense.

But things are looking up. Recently, I decided to take time out and try to find myself; my inner Digger. My travels took me to the streets of India, the mountainous regions of Siberia, and 7-11, for some Doritos for the journey. Finally, I DID find myself within an ancient library in Cambodia (just like the DEAD KENNEDYS song, hah!). While poring through some old texts within it’s deepest bowels,  I found a rare book of poetry. The avid word-smith within me leaped at the opportunity to read some new material. I took of my straw bowler and settled down at a table, thermos of lemsip in hand. What I read was something I never thought I’d stumble across. Something from my past. At last, a clue to remind me that my quest as an Ornothological Maneuveralist is not a useless ploy. Stained and bloodied by time (and my tears of joy),  a page towards the back of the anthology called out to me in a rustic Father-like voice. A Roman poet from the 5th century AD’s lamentation at the astonished bewilderment he felt upon witnessing the miracle of Gallus Gallus in backward motion!

Needless to say, I was pretty stoked. My life’s dreams had led me to the dead end of despair and the dark corner of suicide, and suddenly the blinds had been pulled back from the stained glass window of my life, letting glorius light flood my beak in a symphony of colours and new ideas. Taking a photocopy, I seguway’d my way back to Digby HQ, singing The Shrike Song in a voice like the northern wind; thunderous and unyielding. This was it. I was back on track. Things were swinging my way, finally. Hope lives on!

As if to encourage my enthusiasm, the bird that had taken up residence in my garage had returned for the winter months! She gave a cheerful coo as I drove in, as if to say “Aw, welcome home you”

Prepare yourselves.

Now is the time.

Rise to your feet and clap to the beat.

The beating of wings and the clackity-clack of tridactyl toes on the hard earth.




  1. Well said! Well played, Digby!

    I hear that ring in your tone that my life lacked for so long; I could not sleep, could not eat, I even found myself not caring a bit about birds anymore!


    Welcome back, you!


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