This unfortunate sparrow flew into a window. I'm fairly sure I heard it happen and found the little bird, still, but unmarred, on my porch just moments later. A small heartbreak. If I'd been a nineteenth century leisure class naturalist, I'd have made more detailed studies. I'm half sorry I didn't. It's not often that such an exquisite model just falls into one's hands.
Friday
Whodunit?, part 2
A couple of days ago the person who purchased one of my paintings at OCAD's mystery art fundraiser was kind enough to send me an email. I'm informed that the painting has already been framed to good effect in a floating frame, and that its new owner lined up at 5:00am, securing the 25th spot in line, to get it. I'm delighted to know it's gone to such a good home. I've been meaning to post the image for a while now, so here it is:
This unfortunate sparrow flew into a window. I'm fairly sure I heard it happen and found the little bird, still, but unmarred, on my porch just moments later. A small heartbreak. If I'd been a nineteenth century leisure class naturalist, I'd have made more detailed studies. I'm half sorry I didn't. It's not often that such an exquisite model just falls into one's hands.
This unfortunate sparrow flew into a window. I'm fairly sure I heard it happen and found the little bird, still, but unmarred, on my porch just moments later. A small heartbreak. If I'd been a nineteenth century leisure class naturalist, I'd have made more detailed studies. I'm half sorry I didn't. It's not often that such an exquisite model just falls into one's hands.
White-throated sparrows have a distinctive, evocative call. If you live in North America, you may already know it. If you'd like to hear it, visit this wikipedia page and click on the audio file under Song and Calls.
Posted by
Shannon Reynolds
at
Friday, December 04, 2009
6
comments
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)


