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There's a high flyin' bird, flying way up in the sky,
And I wonder if she looks down, as she goes on by?
Well, she's flying so freely in the sky.

Lord, look at me here,
I'm rooted like a tree here,
Got those sit-down,
can't cry Oh Lord, gonna die blues.

Now the sun it comes up and lights up the day,
And when he gets tired, Lord, he goes on down his way,
To the east and to the west,
He meets God every day.

Lord, look at me here,
I'm rooted like a tree here,
Got those sit-down, can't cry
Oh Lord, gonna die blues.

Now I had a woman
Lord, she lived down by the mine,
She ain't never seen the sun,
Oh Lord, never stopped crying.

Then one day my woman up and died,
Lord, she up and died now.
Oh Lord, she up and died now.
She wanted to die,
And the only way to fly is die, die, die.

There's a high flyin' bird, flying way up in the sky,
And I wonder if she looks down as she goes on by?
Well, she's flying so freely in the sky.

Lord, look at me here,
I'm rooted like a tree here,
Got those sit-down, can't cry,
Oh, Lord, gonna die blues.

Ah, listeners, we miss our European friends, but somewhere on that odd Atlas they are lurking. <smile>

dys, It's funny that you should play that song, because as I paid my water bill today I got the same old cliche:

"Have a nice day"

I think the two young girls who clerk the place truly got a laugh out of my response:

Why not, "Don't die in your sleep tonight."

Well, listeners. I tried to find "Flee as a Bird" without success. The beautiful part of that old hymn is the classical piano to which the lyrics are set; however, here is a Spanish substitute:



Artist: George Baker Selection
Song Lyrics: Paloma Blanca

When the sun shines on the mountains
And the night is on the run
Its a new day, its a new way
And I fly up to the sun

I can feel the morning sunlight
I can smell the new-born hay
I can hear Gods voices calling
From my golden sky-light way

Una paloma blanca
Im just a bird in the sky
Una paloma blanca
Over the mountain I fly
No one can take my freedom away

Once I had my share of losing
Once they locked me on a chain
Yes, they tried to break my power
Oh, I still can feel the pain

Una paloma blanca
Im just a bird in the sky
Una paloma blanca
Over the mountain I fly
No one can take my freedom away

Funny that the thoughts are on birds. Your everloving hawkman finally saw action yesterday at our hawk banding site. Mike got clearance to drive again. For those who don't know Mike had a stroke last October at which time we closed up the site. So it's almost a year since we were last banding. We still have some cosmetic work to do there but the bulk is done and we can operate.

Slow start as in the first two hours all we saw were 3 turkey vultures. Mike went over the other side of the hill to do some more work on my area. While I was scanning a hawk popped up from a stand of trees farther down the hill. I knew it was an accipiter immediately. An accipiter has a long narrow tail to flit in and out among the trees. You won't see them circling out in the open like a red tail hawk. I dove in the blind and started flapping a pigeon on a tether to attract him. He spotted it right off and came right in. Just before he struck I jerked the line causing the pigeon to dart upward. The hawk missed of course and flew right into the net. A quick run to the net and he was in my hands. It was a hatch year sharp shinned hawk.

Grasping it by the legs so he couldn't strike I hopped in my car and drove across the hill to my site. Mike was surprised to see me until he spotted what was in my hand. The look on his face was, as they say, priceless. First day;first hawk. Doesn't get any better then that.

Ah, Bob. How beautiful your loving care for a predator so grim but fair.

I watched the attempt at rescuing the dolphins that were swept out to sea by Katrina. It appears successful.

For Bob's hawk:

Hurt Hawks



The broken pillar of the wing jags from the clotted shoulder,
The wing trails like a banner in defeat,


No more to use the sky forever but live with famine
And pain a few days: cat nor coyote
Will shorten the week of waiting for death, there is game without talons.


He stands under the oak-bush and waits
The lame feet of salvation; at night he remembers freedom
And flies in a dream, the dawns ruin it.


He is strong and pain is worse to the strong, incapacity is worse.
The curs of the day come and torment him
At distance, no one but death the redeemer will humble that head,


The intrepid readiness, the terrible eyes.
The wild God of the world is sometimes merciful to those
That ask mercy, not often to the arrogant.


You do not know him, you communal people, or you have forgotten him;
Intemperate and savage, the hawk remembers him;
Beautiful and wild, the hawks, and men that are dying, remember him.

Robinson Jeffers

Bob, your post made my day. How wonderful for you to experience such a wild thing and to know that you are helping the species survive.

Beautiful.

Well, listeners, here's our hummingbird. How lovely are those tiny wings as they flutter and dart in a flower that sings.<smile>

You know, listeners. Some time there is a song that won't let go:

For someone I used to know:



- But Beautiful
Love is funny or it's sad
Or it's quiet or it's mad
It's a good thing or it's bad
But beautiful

Beautiful to take a chance and if you fall, you fall
And I'm thinking I wouldn't mind at all

Love is tearful or it's gay
It's a problem or its play
It's a heartache either way
But beautiful

And I'm thinking if you were mine, I'd never let you go
And that would be but beautiful, I know.

Coopers Chingachgook

The Death of Chingachgook as the Apogee of the tragedy of
the Indian Nation in Cooper^s The Pioneers

The Pioneers, written by James Fenimore Cooper in 1823
opens the popular series of books about the adventures of
an inhabitant of the New England forests Natty Bampo ^ a
white man, a scout, and a hunter. However, the novelist
does not merely narrate the life of Natty, his main aim is
to present the whole situation on the Eastern Coast of
America in the seventeenth century. In The Pioneers, in
particular, Cooper writes about the new settlers in
America, about their conquest of the lands, and about the
tragic extinction of the Indian people, who had been proud
owners of the lands of America. One of the most important
moments in this book, and even in the whole cycle, is the
scene of the death of Natty Bampo^s best friend
Chingachgook, the last representative of the Indian tribe
of Mohicans. In this scene the author presents his most
important ideas about the vices of the new settlers,
hypocrisy of Christianity, and the tragedy of the native
inhabitants of the American lands. C! ooper actually makes
the death of the Mohican sound as a final chord in the
calamitous history of the Indian people, who under the
onslaught of European civilization are doomed to disappear.
He makes the dying Indian chief a symbol for his perishing
nation, presenting him at the last minutes of his life in
his national costume and believing in the Indian morals and
gods. Moreover, by misspelling his name on the gravestone,
Cooper redoubles the tragic implication that after the
death of Chingachgook his culture is forgotten and lost,
and a meaningful Indian name loses its importance for the
white people who come to live in the formally Indian
forests. Towards the end of The Pioneers the tragic story
about the Indians who were expelled from their lands by the
white Europeans,
http://www.studyworld.com/newsite/ReportEssay/literature/Novel%5CCoopers_Chingachgook-421052.htm

Doctor, Lawyer, Indian Chief
Betty Hutton
Words by Paul Francis Webster
Music by Hoagy Carmichael


There's a doctor livin' in your town
There's a lawyer and an Indian, too
And neither doctor, lawyer nor Injun chief
Could love you any more than I do

There's a barrel of fish in the ocean
There's a lot of little birds in the blue
And 'Neither fish nor fowl" says the wise old owl
Could love you any more than I do

No! No! No! it couldn't be true
That anyone else could love you like I do
I'm gonna warn all the *dead-eyed dicks*
That you're the chick with the slickest tricks
And every tick of my ticker ticks for you, follow through

Tell the doc to stick to his practice
Tell the lawyer to settle his case
Send the Injun chief and his tommy-hawk
Back to little Rain-In-the-Face

'cause you
Know! Know! Know! it couldn't be true
That anyone else could love you like I do

<very brief instrumental break>

(No! No! No! it couldn't be true)
(That anyone else could love you like I do)
And, confidentially, I confess
I sent a note to the local press
That I'll be changin' my home address for you, follow through

Tell the doc to stick to his practice
Tell the lawyer to settle his case
Send the Injun chief and his tommy-hawk
Back to little Rain-In-the-Face

'cause you
Know! Know! Know! it couldn't be true
That anyone else could love you like I do

No! No! No! it couldn't be true
That anyone else could love you like I do
I'm gonna send a hot *communeek*
To warn the boys down at Cripple Creek
That every dimple on your dimpled cheek is mine, so to speak

Tell the (doc!) to stick to his practice
Tell the (lawyer!) to settle his case
Send the (Injun chief!) and his tommy-hawk
Back to little Rain-In-the-Face (woo-woo-woo, woo-woo-woo)

'cause you
Know! Know! Know! it couldn't be true
That anyone else could love you like I do
(Like I do)
(Like I do)
(Like I do)


LIKE I DO!!!

Kaw-Liga was a wooden Indian standin' by the door
He fell in love with an Indian maiden over in the antique store
Kaw-Liga well he just stood there and never let it show
So she could never answer yes or no
Poor ol' Kaw-Liga well he never got a kiss
Poor ol' Kaw-Liga he don't know what he missed
Is it any wonder that his face is red Kaw-Liga that poor ol' wooden head

He always wore his Sunday feathers and held a tomahawk
The maiden wore her beads and braids and hoped someday he'd talk
Kaw-Liga well he stood there as lonely as can be
Cause his heart was an ol' pine knoty tree
Poor ol' Kaw-Liga...

And then one day a wealthy customer bought the Indian maid
He took her oh so far away but ol' Kaw-Liga stayed
Well he stood there and never let it show so she could never answer yes or no
Poor ol' Kaw-Liga...

Johnny Preston
(J.P. Richardson) the big bopper, author

On the bank of the river
Stood Running Bear
Young Indian brave
On the other side of the river
Stood his lovely Indian maid
Little White Dove was her name
Such a lovely sight to see
But their tribes fought with each other
So their love could never be

Running Bear loved Little White Dove
With a love big as the sky
Running Bear loved Little White Dove
With a love that couldn't die

He couldn't swim the raging river
'Cause the river was too wide
He couldn't reach the Little White Dove
Waiting on the other side
In the moonlight he could see her
Throwing kisses 'cross the waves
Her little heart was beating faster
Waiting for her Indian brave

Running Bear loved Little White Dove
With a love big as the sky
Running Bear loved Little White Dove
With a love that couldn't die

Running Bear dove in the water
Little White Dove did the same
And they swam out to each other
Through the swirling stream they came
As their hands touched and their lips met
The raging river pulled them down
Now they'll always be together
In their happy hunting ground

Running Bear loved Little White Dove
With a love big as the sky
Running Bear loved Little White Dove
With a love that couldn't die

Well my goodness, listeners. Are we back to cowboys and Indians again?

It seems that Letty can't be one bit romantic tonight.

Thanks, edgar and dys. Sounds like the perfect songs for lulling Miss Letty to sleep. <smile>

Ask Tico a question, and he runs in the opposite direction.

Well, I'll ask it anyway:

"Love and a Question". who wrote it, and do NOT cheat.

Goodnight all of you here at WA2K radio.

My goodnight song:

Buscando Tu Corazon
(Finch)



You're driving off to the horizon
Your journey has finally begun
You'll ramble across every mountain
To harbors along every shore
Buscando tu corazon


You say this house feels like a prison
And you're trapped by the things that you love
You look high and low for some purpose
And maybe someday you'll come home
Buscando tu corazon


Go to your new destination
I hope you can find peace at last
But if you discover it's empty
Remember that you have a past
Buscando tu corazon


Go to your new destination
I hope you can find peace at last
But if you discover it's empty
Remember that you have a past
Buscando tu corazon

From Letty with love.

Hey Di. Your logo reminded me of an interesting aspect of the fall migration. Most hawks will not travel on a day in which the prevailing winds push them toward open water. As they reach the southern states they funnel toward Central America. You ought to see some of the flights there as the sky seems often to be filled with circling hawks using the warm updrafts to gain altitude and conserve energy by soaring.

One of the few birds that will fly across the Gulf of Mexico is the hummingbird. That colorful little flying splendor will pause along the coast storing up nectar for the flight and waiting for a favorable wind. Then off they go non stop for approximately 500 miles. If they encounter a strong headwind during the flight, they die. What an amazing bird.

Thanks, Letty. I found the article, and don't think that's my friend. Thanks again.

Bob, the hummers in our backyard seem to be thinning out. Guess they're getting ready for colder weather. They are amazing little creatures. It would take ten hummers to weigh an ounce. We have loved watching them fuss at each other trying to compete for the feeders even though there are plenty to go around.

Have you been birding in Arizona? that is a main migration route for birds flying south for the winter. You'll see a wondrous variety of birds.

Bird Song
Grateful Dead
(Reckoning)

All I know is something like a bird within her sang,
All I know she sang a little while and then flew on,
Tell me all that you know, I'll show you snow and rain.

If you hear that same sweet song again, will you know why?
Anyone who sings a tune so sweet is passin' by,
Laugh in the sunshine, sing, cry in the dark, fly through the night.

Don't cry now, don't you cry, don't you cry anymore.
Sleep in the stars, don't you cry, dry your eyes on the wind.

All I know is something like a bird within her sang,
All I know she sang a little while and then flew off,
Tell me all that you know, I'll show you snow and rain.

Letty, this is embarrassing, since I don't always posts and take a long time to catch up, but you mentioned several pages ago that you kissed Francis on his one cheek. Gee, Letty, what about his other three cheeks???

I saw in a magazine pictures of folks (in NM ? not sure- could even be elsewhere, like Florida) who put up gourds and clay pots for migrating birds, hanging dozens of pots is wires and so on. I think this is a custom starting back before white settlement of the States, aboriginals used to do it first.
The birds I cannot remember either- redwings?

Anyway, that was a neat trick to catch a hawk in a net, Bob, I am surprised it came for the bait.
We have a good variety of birds of prey in this country, including ospreys, golden eagles and sea eagles.
I see a few herons in flight on my drive to work, down the Mersey valley.

Hi McTag:

It's the same method Mongols used centuries ago. They, of course, were not banding them but using them for falconry. This is my 36th year doing it. Mike's been doing it for over 55 years.

Di--

Never been to Arizona. Never been west of the Mississippi. Went the other way. Been to Finland, Sweden, England, France, Portugal. Lived for a couple of years in Madeira. Portuguese island approximately 300 miles west of Morocco.