Globe Corner Blogs

Arctic Wings -edited by Stephen Brown

The Hidden Treasures Series takes flight in Volume IV. Whether an avid birder or just an appreciator of nature, these books on birds are sure to delight.

Arctic Wings is an astonishing photography book of every Arctic bird imaginable. The book is organized by type of bird, each section beginning with a short essay by an expert in that field. The essay is followed by pages and pages of amazing photos of the birds. But wait – that’s not even the best part: it comes with a CD of Arctic bird calls!

Egg and Nest, another photo book, stays true to its title. Unlike the in-the-wild photos of Arctic Wings, the pages of this book look like photos of an art installation. Delicate images that find the beauty in every egg and nest and astound the reader with their intimacy.

Continue Reading »

The Bedside Book of Birds by Graeme Gibson

I woke up at 5:30 this morning. It was unintentional and unusual for me as I am, above all else, not a morning person. It had been a long time since I had been awake then, and I had forgotten how much I actually loved that time of day. The birds have just woken up and are chattering amongst themselves. At this hour, there are yet no horns honking, no jackhammers pounding through the sidewalk — just the birds. True, when I part the curtain to feel the still-cool air and listen more carefully, I don’t hear as many birds as I did growing up in the rural Midwest. But I can still hear the robin going through that loop of complicated chirps that never seems quite the same twice. I sometimes catch the song of a cardinal flying by, bobbing along with “bird-ee, bird-ee, bird-ee.” I do miss hearing the wrens, though. Every spring back home, the male wrens would start early, preparing their nests in the bird houses, working hard to impress the ladies. When they were ready they sat on the peaks of the houses, puffed out their feathers and called out to the females. The looked like little tenors on stage at the opera: chests full, heads tilted to the sky, wings fluttering earnestly against their sides as they hit the high note. I was impressed, at least. They usually had two broods a season, so the males’ call trilled above the cicadas throughout the summer.