Golfe de Saintes Maries in Montpellier is the home of thousands of pink flamingos and countless of other waterbirds. I was at Golfe de Saintes Maries to photograph flamingos but subsequently fell in love and ended up photographing Mallards [Anas platyrhynchos], mainly the male mallard.
Please see below some of my photographs of the male mallard with his distinctive bottle-green head and the dull brown female.
You can know the name of a bird in all the languages of the world, but when you’re finished, you’ll know absolutely nothing whatever about the bird . . . So let’s look at the bird and see what it’s doing – that’s what counts. I learned very early the difference between knowing the name of something and knowing something. RICHARD P. FEYMAN
Be like the bird in flight . . . pausing a while on boughs too slight, feels them give way beneath her, yet sings knowing yet, that she has wings. VICTOR MARIE HUGO
What I saw was just one eye; In the dawn as I was going:
A bird can carry all the sky; In that little button glowing.
Never in my life I went; So deep into the firmament. HAROLD MONRO
Somewhere a bird sang, its chant hanging plaintive and melancholy in the still air … I think it’s a sort of lark or something. Our tradition has it that they sing with the voices of lost lovers. If the stars are smiling on them, you will hear its mate call back in a moment. JANE JOHNSON
Gossip, even when it avoids the sexual, bears around it a faint flavour of the erotic. PATRICIA MEYER SPACKS
UNTIL NEXT TIME,