"TZING" WENT THE STRINGS OF MY HEART

ABC’s Dan Lebbin recalls one of his first encounters with a Calliope Hummingbird: “I was sitting in a grassy meadow surrounded by tall conifers, and daylight was dwindling after a long day of hiking in Yosemite National Park. A tiny bee-like hummingbird zipped over my head, flew low over the grass, and disappeared before I could get an identifying look. Was it a Calliope Hummingbird? The size and gestalt were correct… ”

At 3.25 inches long, the Calliope Hummingbird is the smallest breeding bird found in Canada and the United States—and the smallest long-distance migrant bird in the world. This tiny hummingbird travels over 5,500 miles round-trip during its migration!

Calliopes winter in dry thorn forest and humid pine-oak forests in southwestern and south-central Mexico. Vagrant Calliopes are increasingly found wintering in the eastern U.S., however, much like other species of western hummingbirds like the Rufous Hummingbird.

Adult males have a dramatic aerial display, a series of U-shaped dives starting and ending at the same points, accompanied by a metallic tzing sound and flashing, flaring violet-magenta gorget (throat) feathers—all calculated to impress a prospective mate.

Threats to the species include habitat loss, increased use of pesticides, and replacement of native plants by invasive species. Their restricted wintering range makes Calliope Hummingbirds susceptible to natural disasters, diseases, or land use changes that could wipe out significant portions of the population.

    -- from Bird News Network (www.abcbirds.org) -- "The Jewel Of The Rockies"

Judy Garland: Zing Went The Strings Of My Heart (Link)

Verbal

 

     About five years ago, I had a funny experience during a series of job interviews in Philadelphia.

  The organization doing the hiring was a large, prestigious non-profit, and although the position in question represented a potential change from my usual area of professional endeavor, I was very interested even though the salary was modest. 

   Initially I met and spoke to four or five subordinate attorneys in the department, all of them intelligent and pleasant, during the course of several hours, recounting my life story and reciting my resume skills in various characterless offices and conference rooms, regarding Philadelphia's gray-brown frost outside the windows. 

     Finally, I was ushered in to meet the General Counsel, a woman with a lot of presence who simultaneously gave an impression of accomplishment, joy and melancholy. 

     We had a good discussion about the position, the organization and both our careers and backgrounds.  She had been a nurse before going to law school which, given her field of legal specialty, was a valuable qualification in terms of both the analytical and affective components of her job. 

     Midway through our conversation, describing her approach to work, she said "I'm an alcoholic."  She quickly corrected herself, substituting the word "workaholic," looking surprised and embarrassed, but laughing. 
  
   It was an awkward and unsettling moment.  From the instant I met her, I had wondered whether she was an alcoholic. 

     I didn't get the job.  They told me that the funding required for the position never came through, something I'm happy to say I was able to confirm through other sources. (I'm distrustful by nature.)  This recession has been a brutal depression, really, a terrible long winter.