regshoe: Blurry outline of head and upper body of a white dove, with image of the sea, against a black background; with blurry red text 'birds' (birds)
Today is my five-year Dreamwidth anniversary! What a good five fannish years they've been. :)

NTS Kidnapped people who aren't on Tumblr: look, look, we have fanart! And very cute fanart. Thank you, [tumblr.com profile] chiropteracupola :D

RL is still busy and stressful, but happily fic is being a good thing amongst the difficulties. I've not quite been keeping up with comments, but nevertheless, a few recent recs:
  • Behind a Closed Door by [personal profile] thrillingdetectivetales: Absolutely adorable NTS Kidnapped missing scene/smut fic, with especially lovely character voices.
  • Shadow March by [personal profile] verecunda: The fort in Frontier Wolf is, historically-geographically, in almost exactly the same place as the House of Shaws, and this fic makes the most of the crossover opportunity!
  • They Can Nearly Talk by [personal profile] chestnut_pod: James Herriot as an elf vet in Valinor. Inspired idea, brilliant execution. The f!elf!Siegfried Farnon character is amazing.
  • A Disease of So Peculiar a Nature by [archiveofourown.org profile] chiroptera_in_the_cupola: A team of eighteenth-century characters get inoculated against smallpox together. I don't know the fandom, Team Fortress 2, at all, but I gather this is very AU anyway, and it may be of interest to other 18th century history fans.

I've also been playing lots of Birdie, a daily guessing game introduced to me by [personal profile] sanguinity a while ago. You're shown cropped close-up pictures of different parts of a bird, and you have to guess the species in as few pictures as possible, with the game indicating when an incorrect guess shares part of its name with the correct species. They're all North American birds, which makes it more of an enjoyable challenge for me; I suspect it'd be too easy with British birds, but this way I have to do a bit of detective work to figure out unfamiliar species. And it introduces me to so many new, beautiful birds! Today's (which I got in three guesses) is very lovely.

And I've been watching 'The Life of Birds' on iPlayer, which is a lovely de-stressing thing (and has provided an excellent new icon). I'm vaguely considering watching the new Doctor Who specials at some point, but not in this context—the fast-paced sensory intensity of modern TV does not work for calmingness like wildlife documentaries from the 90s.

Speaking of birds, there is a new biography of W. H. Hudson out, by Conor Mark Jameson (whose name I recognise, though I can't remember what else of his I've read). That looks very interesting, I may give it a read at some point. I'm reading another of Hudson's books at the moment and he really does write about birds very well.

I have very nearly finished the beta-ready draft of my Yuletide fic! I have been enjoying writing it :) I've got too many ideas for treats, but in the time between now and reveals I hope to be able to write one or two of them... if they stay short...?
regshoe: Redwing, a brown bird with a red wing patch, perched in a tree (Redwing (Turdus iliacus))
An interesting etymological ramble I've been meaning to post about for a while...

Some time ago I was thinking about the Middle English song 'Mirie it is while sumer ilast' (as you do), and I thought, hmm, 'with fugheles song'—surely 'fugheles' is the same word as 'fågel', the Swedish for 'bird'? So I looked it up and yes, it is; more obviously, they're also both the same as the modern English word 'fowl', which must have lost the G somewhere along the way.

'Fowl' used to mean what 'bird' and 'fågel' mean now, referring to the entire class of Aves, but it's rare these days, and most of its surviving uses are in specific contexts to do with domesticated birds and hunting (wildfowl, Guinea fowl, etc.). I'd never heard of any other distinction between 'bird' and 'fowl'; but The Country Housewife and Lady's Director by Richard Bradley, a housekeeping manual published in the mid-eighteenth century which I recently read for fic research, makes a very specific one: according to Bradley,
a Fowl always leads it's young Ones to the Meat, and a Bird carries the Meat to the Young: For this Reaſon, we find that Fowls always make their Neſts upon the Ground, while Birds, for the moſt part, build their Neſts aloft; ſo then our common Poultry are Fowls, the Pheaſant, Partridge, Peacock, Turkey, Buſtard, Quail, Lapwing, Duck, and ſuch like are all Fowls: But a Pigeon is a Bird, and a Stork, or Crane, and a Heron, are Birds, they built their Neſts aloft, and carry Meat to their young ones.
This is the distinction between what modern ornithology calls 'precocial' and 'altricial' birds. I don't know how widespread using 'bird' and 'fowl' like this ever was, but I've never come across it before and it's not in the Oxford English Dictionary.

The word 'bird', meanwhile, is rather mysterious. It appears in Old English as a word for young birds, and took a bit of a semantic detour through young animals in general and young humans before becoming a synonym of 'fowl' in Middle English and eventually supplanting it as the generally-used English word for Aves. But where it actually came from, we don't know; it's not part of the fughel/fowl/fågel group of words in Germanic languages, nor is it related to Latin (avis) or French (oiseau) or Welsh (aderyn) or anything else, apparently. I imagine some Anglo-Saxon peasant looking thoughtfully at a robin and going, 'you know what, Egbert? I'm not going to call that a fowl any more. I mean, it just looks more like a bird to me, you know?'
regshoe: Black and white picture of a man reading a large book (Reading 2)
The Coast of Bohemia by William Dean Howells (1893). William Dean Howells was an absurdly prolific and very popular American novelist of the late 19th-early 20th century, and this book is his take on the world of Art. It follows Cornelia, a young woman who moves from a sleepy rural village to New York to study art, and her relationships with Ludlow, the man who first recognised her artistic talents and continues to act as a sort of mentor, and Charmian, a fellow art student who falls wildly and exuberantly in love with Cornelia while being equally wild and exuberant about everything else. [personal profile] osprey_archer said about this book, 'it is braided from three parts, two of which are delightful and one of which is the plot', and I agree with this assessment. The bits about Cornelia's life at art school and the world of art in New York are fascinating, and her relationship with Charmian is amazing fun. Charmian, the best part of the book, is a thorough pseudo-Bohemian; she's fitted up a room in her wealthy stepmother's flat as a perfectly decorated artist's studio, down to stretching a sheet diagonally across the ceiling to make the room look like a garret, and decorates the mantelpiece with pipes that she doesn't smoke, because 'pipes are so full of character'. She's not in the least annoyingly pretentious, just endlessly delightful in her forthright and uninhibited emotional expression. I found that her over-the-top adoration of Cornelia came across more as an extension of this general emotional attitude than as anything very overtly homoerotic—certainly there's no conscious tension to it and no jealousy over Cornelia's romance with Ludlow—although, when Cornelia and Ludlow are separated apparently for ever by a misunderstanding, she does talk very ardently about how she and Cornelia can now go and set up house together and 'live for each other in a union that should be all principle on one side and all adoration on the other'. Er, sounds good? Anyway, the third strand of the book, Cornelia and Ludlow's romance, was less interesting—there is some rather entertaining stuff about period notions of honour and correctness leading absurdly trivial problems to cause tons of drama, but Ludlow is annoying and I think Cornelia could do far better and more interesting things with her life, whether or not they involve Charmian.

A bit more Jacobite-related historical reading—I've read the diary of Elizabeth 'Beppy' Byrom, a young lady living in Manchester at the time of the '45. Very interesting history in here—the diary combines accounts of the Jacobite army's arrival in and movements around Manchester with the domestic details of Byrom's life, such as visits to her relatives and doing the washing. It's not as detailed as I might have liked, and her writing is sometimes difficult to follow, but still very good stuff. I enjoyed Byrom's accounts of how she expressed her own political opinions—making St Andrew's Crosses ('we sat up making till two o'clock') and dressing herself up in a white gown to go and see the Prince. (The 19th-century editor footnotes this with 'It is quite clear that this young lady was a sad Jacobite.').

Now I'm partway through 'Ladies in Rebellion' by Katherine Fusick, a Master's thesis on Jacobite women throughout the history of the movement. Lots of very interesting stuff on the different roles women played in Jacobite history, and I'm learning about some very cool people.

Then over the last week I've been working my way through a book published by a local natural history organisation, on the wildlife of a particular site nearby that I've visited several times. There are chapters on groups of organisms—fairly equitably distributed, with fungi, bryophytes and various insect taxa given as much attention as mammals and birds—the ecological history of the site, issues in its conservation and so on. It was fascinating to learn more about this place, and to see how much ecological and conservation work there is going on there—I've wanted to do more of this sort of thing myself for some time but, between moving around, the pandemic and being generally bad at getting into things like this, have never managed to find the opportunity. Anyway, I've written to the group asking about opportunities for getting involved, and we shall see how that goes.
regshoe: A grey heron in flight over water (Heron)
1) The year really seems to have turned a corner this week. It's still cold and still fairly wet and miserable, but you step out of the door first thing in the morning and it just feels ineffably spring-like. I think it's the birds, which are certainly starting to warm up for the dawn chorus. A robin burst into song just beside my head while I was walking along this morning, and the song thrush that always sits and sings from the top of a particular tree was in especially fine voice.

2) I have seen one or more herons flying overhead at some point on my walks almost every day this week. Whenever I see a heron these days I have to stop and appreciate it, so this has been very amusing. It's not as though they're particularly rare birds, but I don't usually see them this often. I'm taking it as a good omen.

I really must get out and do some proper birdwatching sometime soon. Time to look through the very helpful booklet of nature reserves from the local Wildlife Trust and search for places that are good for springtime birds...

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