"Parakeets": A poem by Grace Nichols

Parakeets

by Grace Nichols

Parakeets wheel

                 screech

                     scream

in a flash of green

among the forest trees

sunlight smooth their feathers

cool leaves soothe their foreheads

creeks are there for beaks

lucky little parakeets

Crows and Ravens in Mythology

John James Audubon

Read more about the Raven and Crow in various mythologies around the globe.

BBC News: Crows know familiar human voices

Birds in Art: Valentine Cameron Prinsep's "Il Barbagianni"

Valentine Cameron Princep's "Il Barbagianni" features the beautiful barn owl, or  Tyto Alba. 

Princep painted this piece one year after the death of the female model in the painting, Lizzie Siddal. Read more about this painting on the blog, The Beautiful Necessity.

Birds in Shakespeare: "A Midsummer Night's Dream"

The ouzel cock, so black of hue

with orange-tawney bill,

the throstle with his note so true,

The wren with little quill---

The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,

the plainsong cuckoo gray,

whose note full many a man doth mark

And dares not answer "Nay"---

(A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act 3, Scene 1, Lines 110-113, 115-118)

Resource:

A Midsummer Night's Dream, edited by Mario Digangi

Other articles/sites concerning Shakespeare and birds:

BBC NEWS: The birds of Shakespeare cause US trouble

Shakespeare's Ornithology

Virginia Woolf's Essay "The Plumage Bill"

Virginia Woolf, from the time of her childhood, opposed the use of bird plumage in fashion. 

Below is an excerpt from her essay "The Plumage Bill," which originally appeared in Woman's Leader on 23 July 1920, in reply to what Woolf saw as a sexist piece written by H.W. Massingham, editor of the Nation, and active member of the Plumage Bill Group. 

And then there comes on foot, so that we may have a good look at her, a lady of a different class altogether. A silver bag swings from her wrist. Her gloves are white. Her shoes lustrous. She holds herself upright. As an object of beauty her figure is incomparably more delightful than any other object on the street or window. It is her face that one must discount, for, though discreetly tinted and powdered, it is a stupid face, and the look she sweeps over the shop windows has something of the greedy petulance of a pug-dog's face at tea-time. When she comes to the display of egret plumes, artfully arranged and centrally placed, she pauses. So do many women. For, after all, what can be more ethereally and fantastically lovely? The plumes seem to be the natural adornment of spirited and fastidious life, the very symbol of pride and distinction. The lady of the stupid face and beautiful figure is going tonight to the opera; Clara Butt is singing Orpheus; Princess Mary will be present; a lemon-coloured egret is precisely what she wants to complete her toilet. In she goes; the silver bag disgorges I know not how many notes; and the fashion writers next day say that Lady So-and-So was 'looking lovely with a lemon-coloured egret in her hair'. 

This essay originally appeared in Woman's Leader on July 23, 1920. The above excerpt is from The Essays of Virginia Woolf 1919-1924, edited by Andrew McNeillie

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"The Cuckoo" by Thomas Gillet (1832)

The Cuckoo

'Tis the cuckoo's voice! 'Tis the cuckoo's voice
Resounds, and it makes the woods rejoice,
Its startling note wakes hill and dale,
And is lovelier deem'd than the throstle's tale,
For it tells that the genial seasons come,
Of leafy woods and fields of bloom,
Of music and perfume, loves and joys,
Of balmy gales and clear blue skies.

'Tis the cuckoo's voice! 'Tis the cuckoo's voice
Resounds, and it makes my heart rejoice,
For the memory of by-gone days it brings,
Ere youth flew o'er me on downy wings;
Hope's iris gliding my prospect's extent,
Ere I knew what the world or what sorrow meant;
Man's follies and crimes to me yet unshown,
And I liv'd in a bright fairy world of my own.

'Tis the cuckoo's voice! 'Tis the cuckoo's voice
Resounds, and it makes the world rejoice,
Where rings that sound, but with pleasure 'tis heard?
Who but welcomes the visit of spring's sweet bird?
It speaks to the sick one of coming relief,
And beguiles e'en the lonely captive's grief;
'Tis the cuckoo's voice! 'Tis the cuckoo's voice
Resounds, and all nature's realms rejoice.

Thomas Gillet (1832)

Resource:
The juvenile wreath; poems chiefly on subjects of natural history [by T. Gillet]. (Free on Google Books)