Birders' Nest

[Elgarian Redux]

Also, BIF (birds in flight) ... well, I have some, but mostly leave that to faster people with better cameras.

You're referring to me and my dunnock, aren't you?

[owlice]

I thought you were zooming off somewhere, Owlice?

I am indeed. Yesterday a long drive, today the short leg, and tomorrow the one that's just right (about 7 hours).

You're referring to me and my dunnock, aren't you?

Yes, of course!!

[Elgarian Redux]

I am indeed. Yesterday a long drive, today the short leg, and tomorrow the one that's just right (about 7 hours).

Yes, of course!!

So tomorrow is the Goldilocks drive! But watch out for bears.

[Kalevala]

By and large, I find it hard to envisage birds as the descendants of dinosaurs, given their grace and beauty of flight. And yet, watching certain birds, sometimes I can see it - jackdaws, for instance. They can strut and behave in an aggressive, fierce manner, that can trigger the 'dinosaur' connection.

I have a small collection of Plesiosaur and Ichthyosaur fossils (vertebrae and paddle bones) which even after many years I still find awesome - but at no time do they ever make me think of birds. I suppose the fossil chain leading to birds doesn't include the sea-reptiles. But my ignorance is vast, and this post is mainly incoherent rambling.

Regarding dino ancestors, take a look at the talons of these guys (Red-tailed hawks): 



K

[owlice]

Indigo Bunting (dinosaur)


Dickcissel; I've been wanting to see one for the longest time! (dinosaur)


Northern Bobwhites (dinosaurs)


Halloween Pennant (dragon)

[Elgarian Redux]

Regarding dino ancestors, take a look at the talons of these guys (Red-tailed hawks): 



K

Oh yes, I concur. Pure dinosaur.

[Elgarian Redux]

Indigo Bunting (dinosaur)

What? That lovely fluffy little chap? Really?

Dickcissel; I've been wanting to see one for the longest time! (dinosaur)

Dino-bird.

Northern Bobwhites (dinosaurs)

Oh yes. Dinosaur. No question.

Halloween Pennant (dragon)

But does it exhale fire?

[Elgarian Redux]

This morning I looked out of the bedroom window and there was Mrs Pheasant with a half dozen of her brood, looking not entirely unlike a group of grazing sauropods. Where was the camera? Downstairs, of course.

Swoosh down, grab camera, swoosh up (not so much of the swooshing coming up, actually), and ... all mini-pheasants gone but one. But I clicked. Clicked again to get a slightly better shot of Madame. And here they are. The poor quality is quite embarrassing actually, but when it comes to choosing acoustic guitars versus cameras, acoustic guitars tend to win, so I think I'm stuck with it.

[Iota]

By and large, I find it hard to envisage birds as the descendants of dinosaurs, given their grace and beauty of flight. And yet, watching certain birds, sometimes I can see it - jackdaws, for instance. They can strut and behave in an aggressive, fierce manner, that can trigger the 'dinosaur' connection.

Yes I see it too when I look for it, but it's not something that generally feels particularly close by with birds for me, except perhaps in the steely features some of the larger predators and scavengers. Though I think there's a strong body of evidence now that suggests that many dinosaurs were covered in feathers including such heavyweights as the T. Rex, so perhaps there's a pretty direct biological highway between them somewhere along the line.

I have a small collection of Plesiosaur and Ichthyosaur fossils (vertebrae and paddle bones) which even after many years I still find awesome - but at no time do they ever make me think of birds. I suppose the fossil chain leading to birds doesn't include the sea-reptiles. But my ignorance is vast, and this post is mainly incoherent rambling.

I've never owned any fossils, but have just started watching a very interesting series on the iPlayer called 'Human', about the evolution of Homo sapiens, which has given me a new found enthusiasm for fossils, and the stories they tell. I'd recommend it.

Sorry! Not my photo!! It is from the Maryland Biodiversity site I linked in the post. I should have made that clear!

Also, BIF (birds in flight) ... well, I have some, but mostly leave that to faster people with better cameras.

Ah yes, sorry, was so bowled over by the photo, I rather skated past the link ...
Hope you get your hands on a 'better camera' some day, if such is your desire, but I must say you're doing a pretty sensational job with the one you already have!

[Elgarian Redux]

you're doing a pretty sensational job with the one you already have!

Quoted for truth, as they say.

[Elgarian Redux]

I think there's a strong body of evidence now that suggests that many dinosaurs were covered in feathers including such heavyweights as the T. Rex, so perhaps there's a pretty direct biological highway between them somewhere along the line.

Well said. It's hard to shake off the old image of the dinosaur, so familiar from books illustrated, of course, with no feathers.

I've never owned any fossils, but have just started watching a very interesting series on the iPlayer called 'Human', about the evolution of Homo sapiens, which has given me a new found enthusiasm for fossils, and the stories they tell. I'd recommend it.

Thanks for the tip.
I did a 1 year undergraduate course in geology way back in the 1960s, when some dinosaurs might still have been alive, so I did quite a bit of fossil hunting and studying (but I'd already done some of it for fun). My enthusiasm survived the course, but only just. When it came down to it, I was fascinated by the fossils themselves: their extreme age, their appearance, the digging them out of rock, the rugged beauty of them. My fascination didn't extend, sadly, to learning about the detailed classification of them. So my fondness for fossils is imaginatively rich but intellectually shallow.

There's a place on the beach at Lyme Regis in Dorset where a layer of rock extends dozens of yards in all directions, and consists almost entirely of huge ammonite fossils. Standing there, surrounded by them, extending wherever you look, one knows that here, unfathomably long ago, a great ammonite tragedy of some kind occurred. You wouldn't think the death of a bunch of shellfish in the Jurassic period could be so affecting. But when you stand there, it is:

[Kalevala]

Well said. It's hard to shake off the old image of the dinosaur, so familiar from books illustrated, of course, with no feathers.


Thanks for the tip.
I did a 1 year undergraduate course in geology way back in the 1960s, when some dinosaurs might still have been alive, so I did quite a bit of fossil hunting and studying (but I'd already done some of it for fun). My enthusiasm survived the course, but only just. When it came down to it, I was fascinated by the fossils themselves: their extreme age, their appearance, the digging them out of rock, the rugged beauty of them. My fascination didn't extend, sadly, to learning about the detailed classification of them. So my fondness for fossils is imaginatively rich but intellectually shallow.

There's a place on the beach at Lyme Regis in Dorset where a layer of rock extends dozens of yards in all directions, and consists almost entirely of huge ammonite fossils. Standing there, surrounded by them, extending wherever you look, one knows that here, unfathomably long ago, a great ammonite tragedy of come kind occurred. You wouldn't think the death of a bunch of shellfish in the Jurassic period could be so affecting. But when you stand there, it is:

Neat stories!  How cool to have a bunch of fossils!   

K

[Elgarian Redux]

Neat stories!  How cool to have a bunch of fossils! 

K

I have more to tell, if you've the patience to read it - and I'm assuming that in discussing dinosaurs (and birds being dinosaurs) I'm not going hopelessly off topic?

I once met a chap (let's call him Jim) who met a fisherman, who regularly trawled for fish from a small ship off the Dorset Jurassic coast. This trawlerman would often find lumps of rock in his nets, and he threw them away. Now Jim saw some of these rocks, realised that some of them were dinosaur vertebrae, and offered to buy any future ones that he found. The trawlerman was keen to do this, and from time to time would present Jim with a box of dinosaur vertebrae, receiving financial recompense for so doing. Jim then sold them to fossil hunters.

The point about this was that the fossils naturally weathered out of the cliffs and fell into the sea, where, without the intervention of the trawlerman, they would have been lost for good. Obviously one cannot in good conscience attempt to hammer fossils out of the cliffs. (It's illegal these days, I should think.) So the short story is that I got my fossils by buying them from Jim.

In the photo, left to right: (1) plesiosaur paddle bone, (2) plesiosaur vertebra, (3) plesiosaur vertebra, (4) ichthyosaur vertebra, (5) ichthyosaur vertebra (6) ammonite. The biggest vertebra is about 10 cm in diameter.

[Kalevala]

I have more to tell, if you've the patience to read it - and I'm assuming that in discussing dinosaurs (and birds being dinosaurs) I'm not going hopelessly off topic?

I once met a chap (let's call him Jim) who met a fisherman, who regularly trawled for fish from a small ship off the Dorset Jurassic coast. This trawlerman would often find lumps of rock in his nets, and he threw them away. Now Jim saw some of these rocks, realised that some of them were dinosaur vertebrae, and offered to buy any future ones that he found. The trawlerman was keen to do this, and from time to time would present Jim with a box of dinosaur vertebrae, receiving financial recompense for so doing. Jim then sold them to fossil hunters.

The point about this was that the fossils naturally weathered out of the cliffs and fell into the sea, where, without the intervention of the trawlerman, they would have been lost for good. Obviously one cannot in good conscience attempt to hammer fossils out of the cliffs. (It's illegal these days, I should think.) So the short story is that I got my fossils by buying them from Jim.

In the photo, left to right: (1) plesiosaur paddle bone, (2) plesiosaur vertebra, (3) plesiosaur vertebra, (4) ichthyosaur vertebra, (5) ichthyosaur vertebra (6) ammonite. The biggest vertebra is about 10 cm in diameter.

Neat!  So, how do the fossils get into the fishing nets?

K

[Elgarian Redux]

Neat!  So, how do the fossils get into the fishing nets?

K

I believe that to catch flatfish like plaice and sole, the nets have to be dragged along the sea bed, and so they pick up anything they encounter, along with the fish - including fossils.

[Iota]

I did a 1 year undergraduate course in geology way back in the 1960s, when some dinosaurs might still have been alive, so I did quite a bit of fossil hunting and studying (but I'd already done some of it for fun). My enthusiasm survived the course, but only just. When it came down to it, I was fascinated by the fossils themselves: their extreme age, their appearance, the digging them out of rock, the rugged beauty of them. My fascination didn't extend, sadly, to learning about the detailed classification of them. So my fondness for fossils is imaginatively rich but intellectually shallow.

There's a place on the beach at Lyme Regis in Dorset where a layer of rock extends dozens of yards in all directions, and consists almost entirely of huge ammonite fossils. Standing there, surrounded by them, extending wherever you look, one knows that here, unfathomably long ago, a great ammonite tragedy of some kind occurred. You wouldn't think the death of a bunch of shellfish in the Jurassic period could be so affecting. But when you stand there, it is:

Your relationship with fossils sounds a very rich one, and your description of the ammonite bed makes the emotional connection very easy to imagine. I have strolled along the undercliff at Lyme Regis back in the 80s, and the sediment layers did seem like a sort of geologists dream. I seem to remember we actually started off by walking along the top of the cliffs and had some sort of encounter with adders, which was really pretty scary as the undergrowth meant you couldn't see your feet or lower legs, or the adders! We were really quite panicked and hightailed it out of there pretty damn quick. That's when we then went the more sensible route at the base of the cliffs.

In the village primary school I attended we all knew about ammonites from an early age, as there was a enormous ammonite fossil in the garden wall of a house next to the school, which we passed every day. When I do get excited about fossils, it's the sense of connection with something otherwise impossibly distant from you temporally speaking, that can certainly feel very special. Though as I say this BBC series is opening my eyes to them now in a way they have never been.

[Elgarian Redux]

I have strolled along the undercliff at Lyme Regis back in the 80s, and the sediment layers did seem like a sort of geologists dream. I seem to remember we actually started off by walking along the top of the cliffs and had some sort of encounter with adders, which was really pretty scary as the undergrowth meant you couldn't see your feet or lower legs, or the adders! We were really quite panicked and hightailed it out of there pretty damn quick. That's when we then went the more sensible route at the base of the cliffs.

In the village primary school I attended we all knew about ammonites from an early age, as there was a enormous ammonite fossil in the garden wall of a house next to the school, which we passed every day. When I do get excited about fossils, it's the sense of connection with something otherwise impossibly distant from you temporally speaking, that can certainly feel very special. Though as I say this BBC series is opening my eyes to them now in a way they have never been.

So you grew up in Lyme? How fabulous to live with all that richness around you. I've never seen an adder, but I'd be pretty scared if I did.

Did you know the museum? It's a lovely old place, surely haunted by the ghost of Mary Anning, and full of fossils and stories. With your deep knowledge of the place, I'd bet that you'd enjoy the novel about Mary Anning by Tracy Chevalier, which she researched very carefully, and which oozes the atmosphere of 19th century Lyme. It's called Remarkable Creatures. Wonderful book.

You're spot on with the idea of a fossil as an imaginative gateway to the past. Here it is, now, and there it was, then, except that then it was part of a fearsome creature - a lot more scary than an adder! That feeling never goes away, I find, even though the fossils have been on top of this bookcase for years now.

[Iota]

So you grew up in Lyme?

Ah no, sorry, I grew up in a village in Buckinghamshire, which is where the school and house with the ammonite fossil in its garden wall was. Looking back I guess it must have been bought and built into the wall as a sort of ornament/decoration. Perhaps the original house owner was a paleontologist, I don't know. It was very striking though.
Sorry I gave the impression I grew up in Lyme Regis, but I've only been there once, which is the time I was describing above.