Pied Falconet - Microhierax melanoleucos
Members of the genus Microhierax (Falconiformes - Falconidae) are the smallest of falcons. This species, Microhierax melanoleucos, grows up to 20 cm and has a maximum wingspan of 37 cm.
Some individuals of the Pied Falconet have a thin white line across the base of the cere, over the eyes and down to the breast giving the appearance of a white face with large black eye patches.
The Pied Falconet is found in the forests of Bangladesh, China, India, Lao People’s Democratic Republic, and Viet Nam.
References: [1] - [2]
Photo credit: ©阿棋 (Kei) Looking@Nature | Locality: unknown (2011)

Mr. Punch X 3

Book of the Dead of Nakht Thebes, Egypt 1350-1300 BCE. Nakht was a royal scribe and overseer of the army in late 18th Dynasty. Sacred Blue Bennus - herons decorate the top symbolizing Osiris and Ra. Spell 110 addresses deities in the Field of Offering and the Field of Rushes of the afterworld. The deceased was expected to work in the Field of Rushes. British Museum. [Spell 88 is to transform the dead into the great Benu-bird is a symbol of renewal has been equated with the phoenix by some.]

Think of our blindness where the water burned!
Are we so certain that those wings, returned
And turning, we had half discerned
Before our dazzled eyes had surely seen
The bird aloft there, did not mean?—
Our hearts so seized upon the sign!

Think how we sailed up-wind, the brine
Tasting of daphne, the enormous wave
Thundering in the water cave—
Thunder in stone. And how we beached the skiff
And climbed the coral of that iron cliff
And found what only in our hearts we’d heard—
The silver screaming of that one, white bird:
The fabulous wings, the crimson beak
That opened, red as blood, to shriek
And clamor in that world of stone,
No voice to answer but its own.

What certainty, hidden in our hearts before,
Found in the bird its metaphor?

Archibald MacLeish, “The Rock in the Sea” from Collected Poems 1917-1952 (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 1952)

"When Shelley’s corpse washed ashore, a friend identified it by a copy of Keats’s 1820 volume in the coat pocket, which he knew Shelley had taken with him. Then, after cremation in which Shelley’s heart, hardened by calcium, did not burn, this same friend snatched it from the embers and presented it to Mary Shelley, who kept it thereafter in her desk, wrapped in a copy of ‘Adonais."


Here’s your morbid literary fact of the day.

Be disloyal. It’s your duty to the human race. The human race needs to survive and it’s the loyal man who dies first from anxiety or a bullet or overwork. If you have to earn a living, boy, and they price they make you pay is loyalty, be a double agent- and never let either of the two sides know your real name.

— Graham Greene :: Under the Garden