Birds and city living

You might think that living in a city would mean less frequent encounters with birds. You'd be wrong at least where Oslo is concerned. Summer in the city means visits from pigeons, sparrows, magpies, crows, wagtails, brown thrushes, blackbirds, mallard ducks, and seagulls. On my eight-minute walk to my garden from home, I pass Kiellands plass, which has become a sort of bird haven. There are people who feed the birds there each morning, but what most attracts them are the series of small ponds formed by the waterfalls that cascade down from the main fountain area on Waldemar Thranes gata. These are the watering holes for the mallard ducks and seagulls, but you'll find plenty of pigeons, wagtails and sparrows frequenting the same areas. The mallard ducks that come actually raise their families here; in previous years it was not unusual to see a mother with the ducklings running along behind her or swimming in the small ponds. I love seeing the birds each day. I often think that a world without birds would not be enjoyable to live in. 

Our co-op apartment has a fire balcony facing out from the kitchen to the street; we cannot use it and there is no door out to it, but the pigeons, sparrows and magpies are there each morning, waiting for their food. There is one pigeon especially (we've named him Chester but we're not sure if it's a he or a she pigeon) that shows up each morning and several times during the day. He sits on the metal ledge outside the kitchen windows and peers in, and we wonder what he is actually seeing. One thing is for sure--he arrives the minute he sees any sort of life in the kitchen in the morning. Sometimes he is already there when we get up, waiting for us. He has been known to tap on the window a few times during the past couple of years to announce his presence. We feed him as well as the other birds. 

Our apartment also has another balcony that we can use; that one leads out from our bedroom and faces out onto the inner courtyard. It is in close proximity to a large tree that is currently at the height of the fourth-floor balcony (we're on the third floor). The magpies choose this tree each year to build their nest and raise their family; we think it is the same magpie couple that return each year to to so. They are known for being territorial, and it's funny to watch and hear them squawk and talk to each other, as well as warn each other and other birds about the local cats that wander the neighborhood. God help those cats. The past two years, the magpies have had problems with their nests remaining sitting in the tree due to the storms and high winds that have suddenly become rather prevalent here in Oslo. Last year the branch on which their nest sat actually cracked and fell to the ground; there were no baby birds last year. This year the nest itself fell out of the tree. Luckily, the baby birds were already grown and had learned to fly. But the parents are now scouting around for a safer location, and the other day I caught them on the balcony, checking it out. They know we are kind because we do not shoo them away when we see them. It will be interesting to see how far they take their 'new project'. The other morning, I awoke very early, it must have been around 6 am, and looked out our bedroom window. There was one of the baby magpies, perched on the rim of one of the lounge chairs sitting out there. I wondered if he was sick or not feeling well, but it turned out he was sleeping! I know that because suddenly his little head came out from under his right wing where he had tucked it, and he yawned. He then promptly buried his head under his right wing again and went back to sleep. I'd never considered before how magpies (or any birds) actually sleep, so this was new to me. I took a few photos of him sleeping there outside our bedroom window. I had to take them through the window so as not to disturb him. Shortly thereafter, his parents showed up, there was some squawking back and forth, and he reluctantly followed his parents as they flew away. I think he actually enjoyed sleeping there on the chair. He hasn't been back since, but I'm guessing that he will return at one point. I won't feed them on that balcony because it will only attract them and more birds and I know that the co-op board won't like it, but it amazes me how birds and other wildlife are becoming used to us. They know that the majority of us are not bad people and that we mean them no harm. It's more than peaceful coexistence at this point, it's a remarkably enjoyable coexistence. 

Bird tales

The arrival of spring means the return of birds to the garden, birds of all kinds. Sparrows, brown and black thrushes, crows, magpies, wagtails, robins (the European ones that are smaller than the American ones), ring-necked doves, and (Eurasian) blue tits. Sparrows are most prevalent and spend most of their time in one of two huge bushes in my garden, the kaiser bush and the red currant bush which are more or less opposite each other. When I am working in the garden I can hear them quarreling and chattering; they fly back and forth between both bushes, with stops at the birdbath to drink water and to take a communal bath. Watching them flap around together in the birdbath is a hoot. And when it's really been hot during past summers, they share the birdbath with the bees that line up on the rim to drink water. 

This year there is a large crow that saunters around the garden like he (she) owns the place. My garden neighbor calls her Clara, so we assume it's a female bird. Clara struts and shows off for us; she is not afraid of very much. It is the neighborhood cats that are scared of her; she has chased them out of the garden on numerous occasions. This year she has discovered my neighbor's small stone birdbath that has been placed at ground level. Clara and several of the magpies enjoy drinking water and plucking insects from this birdbath. It's amusing to watch them. She sometimes walks around my garden as do the brown thrushes, looking for insects (mostly earthworms) to eat. The brown thrushes remind me of little dinosaurs; I call them the little raptors. They have a menacing look in their eyes that strikes me as primeval.

As I walk to and from the garden, I pass Kiellands plass with its large pluming fountains whose water descends via small successive waterfalls into at least six small pools lined with smooth medium-sized stones (NLA - Alexander Kiellands plass (landskapsarkitektur.no). Oslo's birds have discovered these pools, sharing them with small dogs and toddlers who like to wander down to the water's edge. Sometimes the dogs take a dip, but mostly the birds have the pools to themselves. They include mallard ducks, pigeons, and seagulls for the most part, but also thrushes and smaller birds. This morning on my way to the garden, a mother duck crossed the sidewalk in front of me followed by her five little ducklings. The UPS driver who was delivering a package nearby stopped to watch them as well, and we commented how sweet it was to see them. Here we are in the middle of a large city, and the ducks are raising their families here. Nature adapts to all sorts of situations and seems to do so readily; that is definitely the case for mallard ducks. There must be a reason that the ducks stay put; one of them must be that people feed them bread. But there are also droves of insects surrounding the water pools that you can see in the late afternoon summer sunlight, flitting about in the warmth. There are probably also a lot of earthworms and other ground insects. The ducks also eat seeds and the nearby plant matter (roots and tubers) that abound.

A less happy story is what happened to the magpie nest outside our bedroom window. The magpie couple spent a lot of time earlier this spring enlarging last year's nest of twigs and branches. The nest seemed to double in size and looked to be spread over two levels. This pair of birds comes back every year to raise their young. Alas, this year it was not to be. Last Wednesday, I heard a crack and took a look out the window; I had already guessed that it had something to do with the branch. The branch holding the nest had cracked off and fallen to the ground. My best guess is that the nest was too heavy and that the birds had built it too far out on the limb. This year's addition to the nest certainly did not help. I felt so bad for them; they don't always assess the situation correctly and this year they lost out. We don't know if there were eggs in the nest, but if there were, they were destroyed along with the nest. The birds disappeared for a few days, but yesterday morning I heard them chattering in the yard again. They'll be back next year, but there won't be any baby magpies this year unless they overtake an abandoned nest. 

We are moving toward summer now--the season of sun, warmth, growth, new life, and easy days. I look forward to lounging in my garden and dozing off to the sound of bird chatter. It's a wonderful part of summer. 

Watching a magpie build its nest

We are privileged to have a birds-eye view (literally) of magpies that are building/renovating their nest, right outside our bedroom window. They are very shy birds that don't really like human company, so my filming was done from indoors. Somehow, they seem to discover that they are being filmed, but I have managed to get some footage of them. Once they find out they're being filmed, they go into their nest or fly away. They are very protective and territorial concerning their nest; we think the same magpie couple has come back each year for the past few years to raise another family. Since last year, we've had some intense storms with high winds, which damaged the nest considerably. So they've been working hard to repair and renovate it. 

Here is some video footage I got this morning:

When birds were dinosaurs

Very true. In another era, we might not have thought they were so sweet.......

(Pearls Before Swine by Stephan Pastis)

An endless source of amusement

Oslo has become a city of dog owners. Whenever I am out walking, there are always people out walking their dogs. It has become a common sight. We have pooper-scooper laws, thank God, and most dog owners abide by them. I watch the dogs with their owners sometimes; the owners carry treats when they are training them, and it's funny to watch how the dogs respond to training. I also smile or laugh when I see dogs tugging at their leashes, barking at their owners to throw the ball or stick at hand, or trying to retrieve a ball that has floated out onto the small waterways with small falls that run down from Kiellands plass. You can see dogs of all kinds--dachshunds, chihuahuas, Russian wolfhounds, whippets, Welsh corgis, Jack Russell terriers, small and large poodles, bulldogs, German shepherds--the list is long. I like all the breeds but my preference runs to dachshunds, Russian wolfhounds and Jack Russell terriers. Even though most people in Oslo live in apartments, they still own dogs so it must be working out, living together in close quarters with their dogs. I'm on the fence about getting a dog; they are more work than cats because you need to walk them and keep them active. Cats are more solitary and will activate themselves, although if you invest the time, they can almost behave like dogs when it comes to retrieving and playing with toys. Our cat loved to run after catnip drops that we skidded along the floor to her; she played with them (and olives) before eating them. She also loved to chase my husband around the apartment; she would 'get her fur up' so to speak and then find him in the living room so that he could chase her. It was very funny to watch them play together. 

I notice all animal, bird, and insect life now. When I am in the garden, I watch the birds fly to and fro between the different trees and bushes. They enjoy taking full baths in the birdbath, and then they find a patch of dry sandy earth to roll around in. I wonder why this sequence is not reversed, first a sand bath and then a water bath. There are a lot of sparrows in the garden, and they chatter among themselves, sometimes quarreling, other times happily chirping to each other. The garden is a haven for them as well as for magpies, crows, brown and black thrushes, wagtails, and ring-necked doves. The latter have increased in number during the past few years in Oslo. Sometimes local cats wander through the garden; they are often hounded out of the garden by the crows and magpies. But they still come back from time to time. One of the cats, the one who has taken a nap in my greenhouse, likes to drink water from the birdbath; the water can be dirty or clean, it doesn't seem to matter to him. Likewise for the honeybees, who don't seem to mind at all that the water is dirty. Nature. It will leave you in awe, and it will also make you laugh out loud. I'm grateful that I have the time now during the day to appreciate all of it. 

Reflections on the great divide

This is not going to be a political post, even though the title may sound like one. Rather, it is a post about my reflections on the great divide between humanity and nature and how that came to be. I've been thinking about this since I watched My Octopus Teacher last night on Netflix. 

We learned from when we were very young that humanity has been given dominion over the animal kingdom. The Bible states (in Genesis 1:26) that God said, 'Let us make man in our image, according to our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth.' The question is of course what was originally meant by dominion, and what it means in our modern age.

I think that up through the centuries we have managed to twist the word dominion into domination, which has many more negative connotations. That is a reflection on how the word 'dominate' has been used. If mankind dominates, then what is dominated is subject to the whims and mercy of the dominator. Domination can imply cruelty in order to keep what is dominated in line. It most definitely implies the exercise of power over what is dominated, in this case, the creatures of the earth. It does not necessarily imply respect or kindness. I cannot think of one instance where I have heard the word domination and thought about the implications of domination as positive. I prefer the word dominion, because it implies a world where mankind reigns together with nature, in partnership. I think of the word realm, where mankind and animals can exist side by side. Humans can be the stewards of this realm; the role of a steward is to supervise or to take care of. I like that idea very much because the implications of stewardship are not negative, at least not at first glance. 

But how did we get to the great divide between humanity and the animal kingdom? Is that the result of mankind's fall from grace? If we accept the idea that humans were originally formed in the image and likeness of God, then they were free from sin. They lived happily and blissfully in paradise, which was a garden, the Garden of Eden. What did they need for survival? Probably very little. Did they know death? Probably not. But then something happened to change that. Their life in the Garden went from sinless to blemished. If there were animals and birds and sea life in that garden, and apparently there were according to Genesis, then the perfect relationship with them as companions and as possible providers of some types of food (milk, honey) was also changed, for the worse. Rather than existing side by side in a harmonious relationship, discord set in. I doubt that it was ever the divine intention that mankind should dominate the animal kingdom, should abuse animals, should exert power over them in a cruel way. That is not the way of God. And yet every day, that abuse of power happens somewhere in the world. We treat animals and birds better than we did a century ago, at least in terms of being less 'cruel' where meat production is concerned, but we still have a long way to go, and the question really becomes how to live our lives without being cruel to any other living creature. Of course we must then face the reality of meat consumption and how to tackle that. We overfish the oceans, we imprison fish in circular tanks in the name of fish farming and tell ourselves that they are thriving, we squeeze chickens into cramped quarters (likewise hens for their eggs) and tell ourselves that they don't know any better anyway, we pump livestock (and fish) full of antibiotics and tell ourselves that we're doing it to protect them and us. Someone came up with these ideas and introduced them into meat production and fish farming. The intentions might have originally been good, but at this point it's hard to know for sure. Additionally, we are destroying the habitats for many animals, birds, insects and sea life through deforestation, pollution, and other practices. 

I don't pretend to have any answers. We must simply try to do better each day, each week, each month, each year. But when I watch films like My Octopus Teacher, I realize that I have been given a glimpse of how conditions might have been before mankind's fall from grace, how it all might have been had mankind maintained its peaceful co-existence with animals and birds and sea life. The fact that the octopus trusted the human who visited her each day, and even showed him (unsolicited) affection, has no precedent in my world at least. We are talking about an aquatic creature that had probably never seen a human before. It made the decision to establish physical contact with the man. It trusted him and did so for the year that he visited her. That is probably what paradise would have been like; additionally there would have been no sickness or death. I like to think so at least. If there is a heaven, I can imagine that all of the animals, birds, insects, sea life--all the creatures that we have loved, crossed paths with or had some kind of relationship with (e.g. bees and birds in a garden) are there to greet us and to accompany us as companions in our new life. In fact, if I think about what heaven might actually be, it is a garden, always a garden, filled with flowers, fruit, vegetables, birds, bees, insects and animals of all kinds. But there would have to be a place for octopuses too, after having seen My Octopus Teacher. 

Sparrows having a communal bird bath in the garden today

This is the second time I've seen the sparrows do this. The first time was about a month ago and I tried filming them but something didn't work out right and the videos I took were blank. Today I managed to shoot three short videos of them enjoying their bath, splashing around. When they're done, there are huge drops of water all over the place. They are an endless source of entertainment--I love watching them. 

Sparrows and hens

The sparrows in the community garden enjoy the birdbath; I've watched them having a ball splashing around and bathing before they quickly fly away. Sometimes it's quite funny to watch them and the bees enjoying the bath together. They seem to be peacefully co-existing.

And who would have thought that you would hear hens clucking and cackling in the city of Oslo? The owners of the house across the street installed a hen house in their garden several days ago. The hens are getting used to being there, and it's clear that they like their owner, because whenever he comes into the hen house, they start 'talking' to him. Of course, he has food for them. I enjoy hearing them at different times of the day. There is no rooster (yet), as far as we can determine. If a rooster arrives, we can kiss our alarm clocks goodbye, as they enjoy waking up the neighborhood at the crack of dawn.

I'm posting two videos, one of a sparrow and the birdbath, the other of the hens clucking....Enjoy!

Pigeon outside our kitchen window waiting to get fed

The pigeons wait for us to enter the kitchen each morning during the wintertime. They know we'll be putting out sunflower seeds and they can't wait to eat! Sometimes they'll peer in to see if we're there; other times they tap on the metal windowsill outside the window, letting us know that they're there and waiting. Birds rule.

Birds, wild animals and food and reflections on Cities (Planet Earth II)

I have been reflecting on the tendency of nature to get used to getting their food from humans. Specifically, I am thinking about the birds that sit on our balcony railing each morning, waiting for us to enter the kitchen. They ‘sense’ when we get up in the morning (don’t ask me how); I’m not sure when they arrive. I do know that they sit out there and wait, occasionally cocking their heads to see if we have entered the kitchen. They make their presence known—and that they are waiting for their daily sunflower seed handouts. I have fed them throughout the winter months, but now that spring is here, most of the birds have disappeared. I assume that they understand that they can now find food on their own. But there is one pigeon who still shows up each morning—the lone bird waiting for his ration of seeds. I am still feeding him, while wondering at the same time how long he will continue to come to us for food. Because some animals and birds get used to the handouts and perhaps no longer feel the need to find their own food. I don’t know how old this bird is, but perhaps he is older and simply tired of trying to find food on his own each day. If that is the case, I will continue to give him food. Because I know that one day he may not come back, and it could be because he has become sick or has died. I hope it will be because he has decided to not depend on us for food anymore, at least not until next winter. I do know that it would be so easy to train him, to tame him. Perhaps one day I will try to do that—when I have the time to do so and the time to follow up. I have a friend at work, an older man from Eritrea, who has done just that, with many pigeons. He told me recently that he wants to write a book about how to train pigeons, because he wants his children to carry on his work after he is gone.

One of David Attenborough’s Planet Earth II episodes, Cities, dealt with the topic of how wild animals and birds have adjusted to city life, because food is plentiful and they don’t have to spend hours scrounging for a meal. There are the hyenas in Ethiopia, who enter the city of Harar each night to receive meat from the butcher shops and city dwellers who are not afraid of them. Those were amazing scenes, but also scary ones to witness. There are the leopards in Mumbai, India who hunt the pigs and small animals on the city outskirts and in the parks by night, where humans walk. There are the monkeys in Singapore that steal fruit and vegetables from the city produce markets. There are the peregrine falcons in New York City who feed on the numerous city pigeons. And so on. Many of these animals and birds are not afraid of humans or the masses of humans in cities, and that is a good thing from the standpoint of their getting more than enough food to eat. It is a bad thing for us if some of the carnivores decide to add humans to their menu. In any case, it is interesting to observe the wild animal and bird world (from the safety of our living room couches) and to marvel at how well they adapt to the growth/expansion of cities and to the loss of their natural habitats. That is not always a good thing. I would prefer that wild creatures remain in the wild, for their sakes and for ours, but mostly theirs.

In the spirit of Christmas--a little treasure from my childhood

Enjoy!

Waxwings chatting and taking a break in their travels

My last post was a photo of what I believe are Bohemian waxwings (sidensvanser in Norwegian) sitting together happily in the tree across the street from where we live. After listening to them 'chatting' together, I am pretty sure that they are Bohemian waxwings because they have a high trill sirrr as mentioned on the link in my previous post. You can hear that in this short video. They are migratory birds, so I wonder where they came from and where they were off to. In any case, they decided to take a short break from their trip in this tree, and it was just so enjoyable to listen to them.

Birds having a pow-wow

A gray day today, and rather chilly, but that didn't stop the birds from having a pow-wow in the tree that you can see from our kitchen window. I used my telephoto lens to get a close-up view of this important meeting. If you look carefully at the topmost branch on the left, you'll see a bird leaning down toward the other birds, almost as though he had something to say or as though he was listening to the others. As I've said so many times before, birds rule. I have no idea why they do what they do, just that I enjoy watching them do what it is they want to do. Why they were all gathered in this one tree is a mystery; perhaps they were planning their migratory activities, if indeed these are migratory birds. I'm not sure what kind of birds they are either. What I do know was that they were chirping and singing and having a great time.

After a few days of searching the web for what kind of birds they might be, I think these are Bohemian waxwings (sidensvanser in Norwegian). You can check out this link for more information on them: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bohemian_waxwing   They are migratory birds. 

Birds have their favorite perches

If you look out our kitchen window (facing east), you will see a tall tree that is popular with the birds in our neighborhood--crows, magpies, thrushes, starlings, and sparrows. They each seem to have their favorite perch spots.This fellow enjoys his bird's eye view of our Oslo neighborhood. For the past few evenings, he has found his favorite perch high up in this tree in order to calmly survey the world around him. I managed to snap a few shots of him just sitting there watching the world go by.

Bird's eye view and mine too

Some different photos from this past week--watching the magpies from my kitchen window congregate on the rooftops and chimney of the buildings across the street. And then watching the incredible cloud formations and the plane that made its way across them. 

The Birds of Oslo

It is not my imagination; there are a multitude of birds in the city of Oslo now. This must reflect the abundance of trees and bushes—plantings that have been prioritized during the past decade’s period of urban renewal that Oslo has undergone. Sparrows, starlings, magpies, blackbirds, pigeons, doves, thrushes, crows, swallows, seagulls, mallard ducks and Canada geese—to name just a few. Not only is the city lovelier after extensive urban renewal, it is livelier in the natural sense. I can lie in bed with my eyes closed, and for a few seconds, imagine that I am not living in a city at all—because we awake to the sound of parent and baby magpies calling to each other in the tree outside our bedroom window. Sometimes when it is quiet in the evenings, you can hear the gulls and the doves calling and chirping to one another, each with their own distinctive sounds. Or when I walk along Kirkeveien road to the tram station at Ullevål Hospital in the morning, I watch the birds forage for insects and worms in the newly-mown grass of the fields that surround the hospital. They’re plucky creatures and they have a lot to teach us, if we only pay attention. The seagulls have discovered the Akerselva River, and they can be seen flying in and around the apartment developments along the river as well as hanging out on the islands of the inner Oslo fjord. Sometimes they’ve landed on the balcony outside our kitchen window, and the noise they make can be deafening. The other day we saw three of them in the road near where we live; someone had tossed a bag of half-eaten chicken onto the road. They were greedily scavenging what remained; my husband commented on the fact that they eat the remains of other birds. In one sense, we can be thankful for their scavenging traits, because they clean up the sea and now even the land. Mallards and geese live along the water, whether it is the Akerselva or the fjord. A pigeon flew into our dining room last week; the weather has been so warm and nice that all the windows in our house are open most of the time. It didn’t seem to be too scared; it flew to the top of the hutch and then out again. It was one of the ‘tagged’ pigeons—those with a small metal band around one leg. I read online that this tagging may be part of an initiative by the Norwegian Bird Association to track the movements of pigeons around the city and the Oslo area in general.

I don’t know much about the different kinds of birds, but am beginning to be inspired to learn more about them. I’d also like to get better at photographing them, but that’s going to be quite tricky. I’m on the internet a lot to search for photos of thrushes and thrashers and other birds that I know really so little about. I found this website for those of you who might be interested in learning about what birds there are to be found in Oslo; there are quite a few, which was pleasant and interesting news to me: http://avibase.bsc-eoc.org/checklist.jsp?region=noos&list=clements

Fascinated by birds

You know that spring is here when you are again aware of the birds singing and going about their daily activities. There is a nest in the tree outside our apartment window that was built and is used each year by magpies. I was able to catch one of them on video renovating the nest that has been there for several years now. She is putting the finishing touches on the nest, maneuvering a large twig that she will somehow fit into the nest. You've got to admire her focus and energy.




I was out walking this past week and came across two birds in a park, where the stream that runs through it has melted for the most part after a long cold winter. But there is still snow on the ground. These two birds were hopping about in the water, and one of them decided to take a quick bath. Funny creatures, the birds. I love watching them, and got them on video as well. Enjoy!

Soaring above the earth

As a child, one of my recurrent dreams was that I could fly. If I was in any danger (I don’t really remember what I perceived danger to be at seven years of age), I could lift myself off the ground and soar a bit above the people whose hands reached out to grab at my feet, which were always dangling just a few inches above their outstretched hands. I remember how wonderful it felt to fly with so little effort on my part. There was no fear there. I like to think that this dream is a metaphor for my life, or at least for the way I wanted to live it growing up, and have lived it to some extent thus far. I don’t want to be pulled back down to earth, not when I want to soar into the clouds and fly free. Indeed, my dream symbolism book tells me that flying may mean several things: ‘wishful thinking; astral projection; suggestion to rise above a problem’. I often think that is why I have such an affinity for birds; there are people I know who can just summarily ignore them or not even see them. They are not conscious of these wonderful creatures flying about and above us. How can you ignore them, I wonder? I cannot. I watch how they behave, I watch how they land and take off. I watch how they watch what is going on around them as they are going about their business, and I listen to them ‘talk’ to each other. It is no surprise to me, after watching birds soar majestically toward a shining sun, that man wanted to fly, and set about learning how. When you look at how far man has come in that endeavor, I can only say--hats off to scientists, engineers, architects, and dreamers everywhere who helped make that dream come true. I said it yesterday and I’ll say it again here—those who dreamed big and made plane flight a reality for the common man—they are the ones who deserve the Nobel prizes for science and engineering. I watched a documentary program about the Concorde supersonic planes recently, and despite the tragic end to the Concorde airline, they were beautiful planes—far ahead of their time. It was moving to see how the Concorde pilots became emotional when talking about their planes. I could almost understand how they felt, even though I have never piloted a plane. But after listening to them, and after watching the incredible air show here in Oslo yesterday (to commemorate 100 years of military flight in Norway), I could almost say that I wished I had learned to pilot a plane. Even though I know that I would probably be satisfied if I could sit in the cockpit of a large plane one day and watch pilots at work. I would love to see what they see and to really understand how planes take off and land.

I’ve never seen an air show before in my life; after yesterday’s spectacular exhibition over the Oslo harbor area, I wouldn’t mind seeing more of them. Watching F16s and Alpha-jets roar through the sky, diving, turning, flying upside down, accelerating, dropping, flying completely perpendicular to the earth, flying in synchrony—it’s an incredible feeling to observe them, like watching birds flying in formation. The Patrouille de France aerobatics demonstration team performed at yesterday's airshow, and here is a link to a video (not mine) on YouTube that will give you an idea of how beautifully they flew. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FES33CtGgiQ&feature=colike

The air show also featured demonstrations of two Norwegian helicopters--the Sea King that is used in search and rescue operations, and the Bell helicopter, both impressive to watch. The amusing thing was that the seagulls, geese and ducks were flying very low to the water yesterday, probably because they were wondering what sort of huge birds had taken over the skies above them where they normally like to be. I like to think too that maybe they were trying to impress us with their grace and flying abilities, since they had such big metal birds to compete with. I noticed them. And nothing will ever beat a bird for grace and beauty in flying. But the air show planes come close.

The beauty of the Akerselva river in winter

Two short videos taken on Sunday January 22nd 2012 when I was out early in the morning walking along the Akerselva river. The first one shows the mallard ducks swimming in the icy river--you've got to love these birds. I love watching them. As I often say, birds rule. The second video shows the waterfall near Hønsa Lovisas house and the ice buildup and formations at the base of the falls. Pretty cool looking. I have always been fascinated by rivers in winter--especially when they freeze, either fully or partially. I remember back to my teenage days when I took pictures of the Hudson River (in Tarrytown, New York) that had almost frozen over. It was like watching a land of ice come to life. Very solitary, very beautiful.

The night the Akerselva River died

“Nesten alt liv er borte i Akerselva”—this was the front page headline in this morning’s edition of the Aftenposten newspaper. It translates as follows: ‘nearly all life is gone in the Akerselva river’. Apparently one of the pipes in the Oslo water purification plant up in Maridalsvannet developed a crack Tuesday evening of last week that was not discovered until early Wednesday morning. By that time, about 12 hours later, 6000 liters of highly-concentrated chlorine had leaked out into the river and taken the lives of most of the fish, crayfish, and river insects along the river’s approximately six-mile length. Scientists who have evaluated the river during the past week have found no signs of life. River life was annihilated in the space of one night. These are the kinds of headlines that make me want to scream and cry. Scream in frustration and cry from heartbreak. I simply cannot understand how such accidents can happen in 2011, and yet they do. There will be a police investigation and blame will be placed somewhere, but it will not bring back the fish and the other life that died without ever knowing what hit them. I only hope that the many mallard ducks that live along the river, even in the wintertime, are unaffected. I really don’t think I could take knowing that their numbers were also decimated. I feel so sorry for the fish and the other life that died before they had a chance to live out their short lives on this earth, and also for the ducks, because all these wonderful creatures are completely at the mercy of humans. I feel sorry for us too, the humans who love this river, who walk along it in all seasons, marveling at the ducks who tackle the ice and snow and cold, hardy birds that show us that it is possible to survive these winters. I never tire of watching the ducks and the bird life in general along the river. But it’s hard to imagine that the ducks or any of the other birds will stay without food in the river. I dread the thought of what the river will look and sound like in the summertime—empty, lifeless, dead, silent.

What happened to the Akerselva river last week is a tragedy. Our lives go on, but a beautiful living river died in the space of one night. Scientists say that it will take two to three years before the river comes alive again. But right now, all I can focus on is the loss--the immense loss of life. We are not doing our jobs as caretakers of this earth when we let animals and birds die due to chemical spills, oil spills and pollution. They cannot talk, cannot tell us what they need, and cannot tell us that they are sick or dying. So we need to pay attention to them. We need to interpret for them; we need to ‘see’ them, to see how valuable their lives are. We need to ‘see’ so many things. We have to start living as though our lives depended upon the happiness of the lives we have been charged with protecting. Because the reality is that our happiness does depend on this. Without animals, birds, fish and plants, we are nothing. They may provide food for us, but mostly they provide beauty and another way of looking at the world, a better way. They remind us that all life is precious and should be respected. They are a constant reminder that all life is sacred.  


(Some links to Norwegian news articles about this environmental tragedy:
http://www.dagbladet.no/2011/03/08/nyheter/innenriks/miljo/akerselva/forurensing/15728369/
http://mobil.aftenposten.no/article.htm?articleId=4048980
http://mobil.aftenposten.no/a.mob?i=4050464&p=aftenposten)

http://www.newsinenglish.no/2011/03/09/catastrophe-hits-historic-river/