So imagine my wonder when I got to meet the most beautiful and exotic birds, literally face-to-face. The personalities and the eccentricities. Bold and bright or quietly camouflaged, they where all there. I felt like I intruded into a different world.
The bird were either injured, rescued, or they were pets. Very sad and a real wake-up call to people who do not realise that these are living things who get attached and struggle to adapt after we humans intervened.
My favorite area was of course, the owl sanctuary. Huge graceful birds, wise and wonderful. I am in awe of nature...
I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,—
When he beats his bars and he would be free;
It is not a carol of joy or glee,
But a prayer that he sends from his heart’s deep core,
But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings—
I know why the caged bird sings!
When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,—
When he beats his bars and he would be free;
It is not a carol of joy or glee,
But a prayer that he sends from his heart’s deep core,
But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings—
I know why the caged bird sings!
PL Dunbar
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