The home-life of the spoonbill, the stork and some herons
Originally published in Re•mediate Literary Magazine. These pieces take as their starting point, the 1910 public domain book, The Home-Life of the Spoonbill, The Stork and Some Herons. Each page starts with a photograph from the book, and the photographs's caption. The text on each page combines my own writing, fragments of text from the book, and text generated by davinci-002, an older AI (GPT2) text completion model. Often, the generated text suggested a narrative direction for each page, which I connected back to text from the book, and to the other pages in the piece. Interestingly, davinci-002, and the tone and quality of text that it produces, was made unavailable by OpenAI on the same date as this piece was published, Saturday, March 15, 2025.
Plate 1.
Built on the stumps of last year’s broken reeds,
Told through the sounds, words and movements of some of your favourite things,
it’s alive.
We find ourselves rowing through the endless channels,
and innumerable lagoons,
of a great swamp in quest of Spoonbills.
Plate 2.
She stood looking at the camera.
My friend and fellow-hunter,
The necessity for preservation was still requiring some manifestation of the sentiment,
At last it was obvious, from the number of birds constantly sweeping overhead, that we were now in the vicinity of the Spoonbills’ nursery,
of geese and ducks,
in land, which the poor of drake had sufficient reason to dread.
“Praised be Heaven, we are not far from the borders of…”
Plate 5.
Doubling her long legs under her, sat down.
“Well what do you think of it?”
A puzzled expression floated over his reddish countenance, followed by a green leaf.
"How you talk!" cried his wife. "That was all in your fancy. I proceed. Pray proceed." The weird little creatures spent most of their time in a semi-dormant state.
Though the kids found the drake's endless warnings about hybernation frightening, most of them were more so in love with the dainty flowers that the young drakes were all equipped with
with just a whiff of a breath and a little soul-searching or a heartfelt dedication to place a smile on his face.
Plate 6.
Stepped astride the chicks and half dropping her wings, crouched over them.
I am “seriously” happy!
As the train stopped last station before icehouse, before going to best bird sanctuary, the drake said,
Step aside!
The boat returned, and my brother took a little snap of the hiding-tent, with its inhabitant peering anxiously out, awaiting release.
At the end of the channel will be noticed a light-coloured lump
and innumerable lagoons
"Well what do you think of that?"
Plate 9.
The young were now in the last state of exhaustion.
Tracing the kid’s nose towards her two,
Obviously uneasy in her mind,
She keeps peering through the reeds as though seeking something.
"Standing guard," she observed. "Step aside!"
The drake was challenging till she made a plaintive gesture for it to calm, pointing to the two clutches.
"Ever seen that one before over there?"
It landed awkwardly. The shit stench was unpleasant. "I'll help you collect what I can."
The noise of the struggle had hardly died away before ther was a flapping close at hand, and in another instant my bird had dropped quietly on her nest.
"I am seriously happy!"
Plate 10.
At the base of his bill the chicks found much that was to their satisfaction.
This nest contained two young ones about a week or ten days old. The weird little creatures spent most of their time ina semi-dormant state.
Bending the long legs, it crouched over them. All this time the drake had not returned, and on looking round I saw that now all the other nests within view were each only tended by the brooding bird.
On looking around I saw that there was now only one sitting on the nest, which meant that the nest with its five, had become the lone one with four. Not many minutes later a crested gull came towards us, and immediately began to mob the nesting drake. Four became three. Three two. At the base of his bill the chicks found much that was to their satisfaction.
The seasons shook out into summers and the beaver youngsters by the score made their daily round over the river to the river town, and back in the twilight to the great lodge, the icehouse. The winged fish, such as the bass, catfish, and others with flickering fins, had been hatched and the fish-weirs built in every river stream yet known to the
Plate 11.
the lagoon, looking back at the great birds circling above their nursery.
Plate 12.
Sitting with their heads together gravely listening to the noise beneath,
A car runs across the road close to the crocuses,
The storks murmer, "a jumper!" Evidently it is never more than a step from stork to crocus.
Cautiously I raised my head above the edge, and there in the centre of the great platform of sticks were three fully-fledged young Storks, sitting in a triangle with their heads together, gravely listening to the noise beneath. "Ein Springer!", I exclaimed.
It was a warm still night, and I knew that the sound would carry far, but there was no answering hoot to signify “clear way!”
By the twelfth day, besides the good stamina contracted from the early cold winter air, the baby has gained in inches, in weight, and in general glow, and protection from the armour on its back.
Plate 13.
The young were sitting on their heels.
The white throats are red.
The eyes are black and bright.
The beaks and front feet are yellow.
The wings are brownish black.
The tail is short.
I am "seriously" happy!
Plate 14.
Sitting auk-like on their tarsi.
and if the positions of the legs and feet in the other photographs be carefully examined, the frequency of these two postures will be obvious.
Nor did they content themselves with so resting, but when moving aimlessly about the nest they rsa on their tarsi and, though less often, also on their eels.
How I wish the boat was into a larger swell that could have knocked out a few as they threw caution to the winds. The icehouse.
We headed, aided by the puffs standing on just two points of their flippers.
Step aside! said the drake
Stand guard! said the stork
Plate 15.
Leaning forward with distended throat prepared to spread the meal before them.
"Naught to fear," said the host, not looking her way, but whipping round on his stool. "Be not afraid, little one, of harmless cat. Sit you down, and I will set you before a platter full of good bread and butter, and if your stomachs are as big as your eyes you may eat half the roast with 'most as much as I can do, and not throw away the bones."
He's alright, said the man.
No he's alright
It was a sight that I had never seen before. It was a sight that I would never forget.
I could hear her voice, but I could not hear her voice.
I could hear her voice, but I could not hear her voice.
I could hear her voice, but I could not hear her voice.
Plate 18.
and evinced a lively interest in my doings.
Stand guard!
of innumerable lagoons
"Well what did you think of that?"