I’m starting to suspect that my new bird book was ghost-written by Monty Python. I simply can’t read the author’s description of the Painted Bunting’s various calls without hearing the droll delivery of John Cleese in my mind: tida day-da tida day teetayta tita witee wi witato wee sittee, wippity, pickity, snickity See what I mean? I’ve got a good imagination, but come on!I’m not going to argue with classics such as chick-a-dee-dee-dee, bob white, and caw, but wippity, pickity, snickity? Maybe there is fine print somewhere explaining that this is how a Painted Bunting sounds . . . after…
Tag: Nature
Voila! I have, at long last, visual proof that turkey pants, err, trousers, I mean, were actually worn by our London bird. In England, you see, ‘pants’ means ‘underpants.’ I discovered my faux pas after cheerily announcing that I had brought a pair of turkey pants, only to have a dinner guest reply, “I beg your pardon?” in that quintessentially British way, the very tone of which informed me I had – yet again – put my Yankee foot in my Yankee mouth.