Slowly processing my trip, and somehow this conclusion keeps coming up. Now, mind you, I do tend to hold a Pollyanna view of the world in that I try to put a positive spin on things. But, I actually do see something quite clearly now, and it is heartening and hopeful.
All of those poets and non-poet soldiers thought their deaths were meaningless, wasteful, and preventable. When I was visiting their battlefields, praying in nearby churches, or reading their poems to them over their gravesites, I felt the same way. I used to dread teaching All Quiet on the Western Front, and felt I had to somehow make amends to those fictional characters by visiting their true counterparts on the ground where they fought. But now, I realize their deaths have not been forgotten.
One hundred years after the war ended, normal citizens are still looking for those soldiers listed on the monuments for the missing at the Menin Gate and Tyne Cot. And when one is found, and identified, the everyday people involved celebrate and commemorate that soldier by name. He is honored and remembered and buried with his comrades. Those who are determined to never forget the Great War, and teachers like me who teach the creative writing from the period, have not allowed their deaths to be buried and forgotten.
As the world grapples with chemical weapons once again, we can point to their first widespread use in Belgium and France, can acknowledge that both sides used them, and that both sides agreed they should never be used again.
Perhaps human history is one of aggression and dominance, but it doesn't have to be that way. In some way, watching the World Cup soccer games reminds me that we have positive outlets for our competitive natures. Patriotic fervor is best applied to the sports competitions that envelope the entire world. The Olympic Games are another venue for nationalism, but I kind of like what Belgium has been doing. Most of the time, citizens relate to being from "Flandres" or "Wallonia" and not Belgium. But, they all fly the Belgium flag when the World Cup comes around. Their distinct cultures still exist, and they can unite for a common cause. I am rooting for them.
I truly believe the soldiers who gave their lives for their countries in World War 1 would be 100% in favor of the European Union. They probably wouldn't believe it could exist with 28 countries who have been enemies many times in the past centuries, but it does exist. And countries heavily involved in WW1 started it in 1951: Germany, France, Belgium, the Netherlands, Luxembourg, and Italy. A Europe without borders has been a Europe without declared war. When security issues arise, European countries share their resources and help each other.
That never could have happened in 1918, when each side used propaganda to dehumanize the other. But the poets knew.
In "Strange Meeting," Wilfred Owen imagines he meets a German poet in Hell, who tells him
...Whatever hope is yours
Was my life also; I went hunting wild
After the wildest beauty in the world,
Which lies not calm in eyes, or braided hair,
But mocks the steady running of the hour,
And if it grieves, grieves richer than here.
For by my glee might many men have laughed,
And of my weeping something had been left,
Which must die now. I mean the truth untold,
The pity of war, the pity war distilled.
(1918)
Ors, France, is the resting place of Wilfred Edward Owen. I regret that I ran out of time to go down there; he ran out of time to hunt "the wildest beauty in the world".
Friday, June 22, 2018
18 June Heading Home
United Flight 949, second time
Here I am, crammed in seat 40A. I was the one who wanted a window seat! Unfortunately, the 6' 5" young man in front of me immediately reclined his seat, forcing my laptop into my (now softer) belly. I can barely type with my elbows crammed into my sides. Mrs. Grumpy next to me slammed down the armrest and took it over. Mind you, she is about 5'4" tall, a decades past retirement age (be kind now, Jenyth), and playing music loud enough that I can hear it through her noise-cancelling headphones into my noise-cancelling headphones. Maybe something is going on in the wireless world. What is not working is the plane's internet.
Clearly, I am suffering from a case of First World Syndrome.
They are going to serve a full lunch, a light snack, a heavy snack, and make four beverage runs.
The wine and beer are free,
back here in economy-
your elbows touch your knee
my cheap fare ain't so easy.
The amount of food on this plane could probably serve a lot of homeless people. Now I have the attitude of gratitude.
My commute to the airport was quite fun today. I took the tube from London Bridge station on the Jubilee line, switched at Waterloo station because the Jubilee train was crammed full of commuters at 8:00 a.m. and the ventilation wasn't working. My roller bag wouldn't behave in such a crowded space where standing room only means standing on top of your neighbor. Exiting the Jubilee train into the blast of subway air was great; the next Bakerloo train arrived in less than a minute. I took the brown line all the way to Paddington, and remembered to exit where there was a ramp instead of stairs. I felt a sense of victory.
Paddington Station is so awesome - the ribs of the ironwork are artistically designed, and there's a great deal of shopping. I want a Paddington Bear, but I only have 11 pounds 30 left, and the cheapest one is £14.95. I have exhibited extreme credit card discipline this trip and am not going to blow it.
Because I am so cheap, I bought an off-peak ticket on the Heathrow Express. I had to wait 45 minutes to get on a train after 9:30, and I realize if I don't get the 9:40 my time in the airport will be stressful. Everything works according to plan, even though no one ever checks my ticket on the train. I could have gone for free. I remember to look at my Fitbit. The walk from the Express train stop to Terminal 2 for United is at least a mile long, and if my gate is 31-49, I'll have an additional walk under the tarmac in a hallway where you can feel the planes overhead. Of course, I'm gate 48.
What is it about my face? Stopped three separate times in "random" airport searches and identity checks. The third time I was taken into a room on the side of the United gate and asked even more questions. This interrogator was completely stoic. I said, "Please check anything of mine you'd like. I want this plane to be as secure as you do." I then asked her if there was something wrong with my passport. She claimed they have an algorithm that randomly selects people. Three random selections seems like the algorithm is as manipulated as Facebook's. Steps: 3458, or 1.729 miles.
Well, United offers TV, but no World Cup game. England is playing; you'd think they'd at least announce a score now and then. A terrific biopic of Leslie Caron entertains for an hour, but I start thinking about my experience, and wondering. What should Belgium do with all of those cemeteries? How will the U.K. commemorate the armistice? I'm sure it will be a grand occasion.
In the U.S., we are taking down Confederate statues, as if the past that glorified the exploits of Robert E. Lee can disappear. What is the best way to remember the tough times, the less than glorious battles where no one really wins? What part do I play in remembering World War 1 this fall, knowing that most Americans don't feel any connection to it at all. In fact, not many World War 2 veterans are still alive. My dad, a WW2 vet, was never that interested in WW1. But I am nearly obsessed with those soldier poets who thought they died for nothing.
What will I do this 11.11.18?
"Now must I throw my little candle on his torch..." wrote Wilfred Owen.
Here I am, crammed in seat 40A. I was the one who wanted a window seat! Unfortunately, the 6' 5" young man in front of me immediately reclined his seat, forcing my laptop into my (now softer) belly. I can barely type with my elbows crammed into my sides. Mrs. Grumpy next to me slammed down the armrest and took it over. Mind you, she is about 5'4" tall, a decades past retirement age (be kind now, Jenyth), and playing music loud enough that I can hear it through her noise-cancelling headphones into my noise-cancelling headphones. Maybe something is going on in the wireless world. What is not working is the plane's internet.
Clearly, I am suffering from a case of First World Syndrome.
They are going to serve a full lunch, a light snack, a heavy snack, and make four beverage runs.
The wine and beer are free,
back here in economy-
your elbows touch your knee
my cheap fare ain't so easy.
The amount of food on this plane could probably serve a lot of homeless people. Now I have the attitude of gratitude.
My commute to the airport was quite fun today. I took the tube from London Bridge station on the Jubilee line, switched at Waterloo station because the Jubilee train was crammed full of commuters at 8:00 a.m. and the ventilation wasn't working. My roller bag wouldn't behave in such a crowded space where standing room only means standing on top of your neighbor. Exiting the Jubilee train into the blast of subway air was great; the next Bakerloo train arrived in less than a minute. I took the brown line all the way to Paddington, and remembered to exit where there was a ramp instead of stairs. I felt a sense of victory.
Paddington Station is so awesome - the ribs of the ironwork are artistically designed, and there's a great deal of shopping. I want a Paddington Bear, but I only have 11 pounds 30 left, and the cheapest one is £14.95. I have exhibited extreme credit card discipline this trip and am not going to blow it.
Because I am so cheap, I bought an off-peak ticket on the Heathrow Express. I had to wait 45 minutes to get on a train after 9:30, and I realize if I don't get the 9:40 my time in the airport will be stressful. Everything works according to plan, even though no one ever checks my ticket on the train. I could have gone for free. I remember to look at my Fitbit. The walk from the Express train stop to Terminal 2 for United is at least a mile long, and if my gate is 31-49, I'll have an additional walk under the tarmac in a hallway where you can feel the planes overhead. Of course, I'm gate 48.
What is it about my face? Stopped three separate times in "random" airport searches and identity checks. The third time I was taken into a room on the side of the United gate and asked even more questions. This interrogator was completely stoic. I said, "Please check anything of mine you'd like. I want this plane to be as secure as you do." I then asked her if there was something wrong with my passport. She claimed they have an algorithm that randomly selects people. Three random selections seems like the algorithm is as manipulated as Facebook's. Steps: 3458, or 1.729 miles.
Well, United offers TV, but no World Cup game. England is playing; you'd think they'd at least announce a score now and then. A terrific biopic of Leslie Caron entertains for an hour, but I start thinking about my experience, and wondering. What should Belgium do with all of those cemeteries? How will the U.K. commemorate the armistice? I'm sure it will be a grand occasion.
In the U.S., we are taking down Confederate statues, as if the past that glorified the exploits of Robert E. Lee can disappear. What is the best way to remember the tough times, the less than glorious battles where no one really wins? What part do I play in remembering World War 1 this fall, knowing that most Americans don't feel any connection to it at all. In fact, not many World War 2 veterans are still alive. My dad, a WW2 vet, was never that interested in WW1. But I am nearly obsessed with those soldier poets who thought they died for nothing.
What will I do this 11.11.18?
"Now must I throw my little candle on his torch..." wrote Wilfred Owen.
Wednesday, June 20, 2018
17 June London Laughs
17 June afternoon
Some people are just so much fun. Jean and Jeff Lindberg, old friends from my volleyball coaching days, invited me up to the city for an afternoon of touring. They just moved to London for a three year gig, and I must say I was a little jealous when I learned of their plans. After touring battlefields and an intense week of studying the WW1 poets I love, it was a much-need breath of fresh air.
Jean has already figured the best photo ops in her neighborhood. Here's the black egg near London Bridge and her new sports club, Third Space.
Tourists were lined up to take their pics, and none of us were able to budge it at all!
Jean and I have known each other since our daughters were in 7th grade, and always had a great time on volleyball road trips. She was the first person I knew to use Uber, and London will never be the same with her on the loose!
Here is my first lemon and limes Pimms, from the Marylebone Street Fair. What a beautiful neighborhood! An opera singer from Covent Garden was singing, lots of restaurants had booths, and the atmosphere was so fun and festive.
But, what's more fun and festive than Carnaby Street? The famous men's tailors are still there, but only a few of the classic punk rock stores still exist. Fortunately, my favorite shoe store is still there. They used to create handprinted Doc Martins, and now they have expanded their repertoire to include toddler shoes and shoes for men.
This street off of Carnaby Street is awesome at night. It looked a lot like this on my first visit in 1984.
Jean's new balcony in the London Bridge area has a drop dead view of The Shard. We learned you can go near the top for free if you have a reservation at one of the lounges in the upper floors. Next visit, for sure!
I'm checked in for my flight, and kind of amazed at all I've been able to do. What a gift travel is!
Some people are just so much fun. Jean and Jeff Lindberg, old friends from my volleyball coaching days, invited me up to the city for an afternoon of touring. They just moved to London for a three year gig, and I must say I was a little jealous when I learned of their plans. After touring battlefields and an intense week of studying the WW1 poets I love, it was a much-need breath of fresh air.
Jean has already figured the best photo ops in her neighborhood. Here's the black egg near London Bridge and her new sports club, Third Space.
Tourists were lined up to take their pics, and none of us were able to budge it at all!
Jean and I have known each other since our daughters were in 7th grade, and always had a great time on volleyball road trips. She was the first person I knew to use Uber, and London will never be the same with her on the loose!
Here is my first lemon and limes Pimms, from the Marylebone Street Fair. What a beautiful neighborhood! An opera singer from Covent Garden was singing, lots of restaurants had booths, and the atmosphere was so fun and festive.
But, what's more fun and festive than Carnaby Street? The famous men's tailors are still there, but only a few of the classic punk rock stores still exist. Fortunately, my favorite shoe store is still there. They used to create handprinted Doc Martins, and now they have expanded their repertoire to include toddler shoes and shoes for men.
This street off of Carnaby Street is awesome at night. It looked a lot like this on my first visit in 1984.
Jean's new balcony in the London Bridge area has a drop dead view of The Shard. We learned you can go near the top for free if you have a reservation at one of the lounges in the upper floors. Next visit, for sure!
I'm checked in for my flight, and kind of amazed at all I've been able to do. What a gift travel is!
Sunday, June 17, 2018
16 June Lyme Regis, Dorset
Saturday in Lyme Regis.
How droll that sounds!
The famous Cobb of this town has been featured in Jane Austen's Persuasion, which was published six months after her death in 1817. John Fowles' 1969 novel The French Lieutenant's Woman was also set in Lyme Regis, with the iconic opening shot taken at the end of the Cobb on a stormy day. I tried to replicate the shot, with little success.
This is really one of the prettiest coastal towns I've seen. It is very touristy, and we did run into a beach guitar festival. Again, covers of famous songs with different inflections made UB40's "Mirror in the Bathroom" very, very funny. The impresario tried to get everybody pumped up as bands changed the stage, but he ended up looking like a cross between Gene Wilder's Willy Wonka and a Mick Jagger wannabe.
Past the music we found the inner harbor at low tide. It was really low tide. These boats have propellers that bend up so they don't get stuck in the muck.
Lots of tourists are taking pictures, eating ice cream, walking their dogs, and enjoying the beautiful day. Weather changes quickly here. It was foggy and misty when we arrived, which meant we went right to the pub for lunch. The Cobb Arms is about 400 years old, but doesn't smell as musty as you might imagine. We ate fishcakes, and I discovered the Juicy Lucy, a double cheeseburger with carmelized onions and cheddar cheese. After we stuffed ourselves, the waiter brought us each our own tub of fries, with "salad creme" as dip. Did not even open the bottle of that. I did try the pub mustard (quite strong), the HB sauce (a cross between a brown sauce and BBQ, with tamarind), malt vinegar (not as malty as in the U.S.), and straight up Heinz ketchup. After, the sun came out, the wind blew away the mist, and we went on a walk.
I was ecstatic to find a garden area dedicated to Jane Austen. I knew she had visited Lyme, but didn't know the exact dates. Could not find a house with a plaque on it, but did find these plaques below the flowers. Several memorial benches were in place, and the steps were really steep.
Next on the list - Sidmouth. It's one of the more popular ocean towns for retirees and is in East Devon. Lyme Regis is barely past it, but technically in the County of Dorset. We had to travel along very narrow lanes with hedgerows so tall they joined the canopy of trees over head. Were they around in 1804-5, when Jane Austen was alive? A horse drawn carriage would be more at home than a car, which nearly has to pull over to oncoming traffic. And when a bus is approaching head on, it's a gut check, especially when we seem to be on the wrong side of the road!
We learned from our local Brit about town names. A town that ends in -cester originated from the Roman times 2000 years ago. A town that ends with -mouth has a river or estuary that feeds into the ocean. Exmouth and Sidmouth are located where the fresh water meets the salty sea. Sidmouth is part of the Jurassic Coast, with lots of fossils in the beach pebbles and a red, clay-like soil on the cliffs. At the end of the coast here, you can barely see some white cliffs, made of chalk.
You might be wondering, where is the sand? So were we. But, natural beauty is a wonderful site.
How droll that sounds!
The famous Cobb of this town has been featured in Jane Austen's Persuasion, which was published six months after her death in 1817. John Fowles' 1969 novel The French Lieutenant's Woman was also set in Lyme Regis, with the iconic opening shot taken at the end of the Cobb on a stormy day. I tried to replicate the shot, with little success.
This is really one of the prettiest coastal towns I've seen. It is very touristy, and we did run into a beach guitar festival. Again, covers of famous songs with different inflections made UB40's "Mirror in the Bathroom" very, very funny. The impresario tried to get everybody pumped up as bands changed the stage, but he ended up looking like a cross between Gene Wilder's Willy Wonka and a Mick Jagger wannabe.
Past the music we found the inner harbor at low tide. It was really low tide. These boats have propellers that bend up so they don't get stuck in the muck.
Lots of tourists are taking pictures, eating ice cream, walking their dogs, and enjoying the beautiful day. Weather changes quickly here. It was foggy and misty when we arrived, which meant we went right to the pub for lunch. The Cobb Arms is about 400 years old, but doesn't smell as musty as you might imagine. We ate fishcakes, and I discovered the Juicy Lucy, a double cheeseburger with carmelized onions and cheddar cheese. After we stuffed ourselves, the waiter brought us each our own tub of fries, with "salad creme" as dip. Did not even open the bottle of that. I did try the pub mustard (quite strong), the HB sauce (a cross between a brown sauce and BBQ, with tamarind), malt vinegar (not as malty as in the U.S.), and straight up Heinz ketchup. After, the sun came out, the wind blew away the mist, and we went on a walk.
I was ecstatic to find a garden area dedicated to Jane Austen. I knew she had visited Lyme, but didn't know the exact dates. Could not find a house with a plaque on it, but did find these plaques below the flowers. Several memorial benches were in place, and the steps were really steep.
Next on the list - Sidmouth. It's one of the more popular ocean towns for retirees and is in East Devon. Lyme Regis is barely past it, but technically in the County of Dorset. We had to travel along very narrow lanes with hedgerows so tall they joined the canopy of trees over head. Were they around in 1804-5, when Jane Austen was alive? A horse drawn carriage would be more at home than a car, which nearly has to pull over to oncoming traffic. And when a bus is approaching head on, it's a gut check, especially when we seem to be on the wrong side of the road!
We learned from our local Brit about town names. A town that ends in -cester originated from the Roman times 2000 years ago. A town that ends with -mouth has a river or estuary that feeds into the ocean. Exmouth and Sidmouth are located where the fresh water meets the salty sea. Sidmouth is part of the Jurassic Coast, with lots of fossils in the beach pebbles and a red, clay-like soil on the cliffs. At the end of the coast here, you can barely see some white cliffs, made of chalk.
15 Harry Potter and more in Exeter
Friday 15 June
Many things about England impress me. The people really care about those who are at risk, or unprotected. Exeter is home to a large school and college for the deaf. On High Street, you can find an entire row of charity boutiques. Oxfam is a favorite organization and they actually have three separate shops, right next to each other. One houses books (how I miss bookstores in the U.S.), one houses music - including a large vinyl collection - and the third has clothes and household items. Around the corner is The Heart Association, then The Kidney Foundation, and finally The Hospice Foundation. There was an imitation crown brooch that I should have bought for £4, but didn't. It was a nice walk down to the River Exe, where there are some crazy old intersections, and the old Roman road, complete with observation/toll tower.
Because the intersections were just added onto over the centuries, they are a complete mess. Fortunately, they built Pedestrian Subways underneath the whole thing. Most of the graffiti is incredibly artistic, but a lot of it didn't look any different from ours back in the U.S.
The river slows down, takes a bend, and becomes a quiet quay. Several centuries ago, they built a market awning, several shops and pubs on this bend. Some of the shops are nothing more than little doors covering old caves in the side of the hill. Very cute and quaint.
There's a great pub restaurant called The Prospect where we had lunch with all of the business people in town, it seemed. Many went inside to watch World Cup soccer, which was our plan later in the day. Audrey's friends Caralina (from Portugal) and Chiara (from Germany) came over for dinner, and we went to The Black Horse to watch the game. Nothing better than a British pub crowd watching a soccer match!
OK, maybe going to some live music at the Firehouse with a band who changes popular songs to "funk" music is better? Nope. Hysterical.
Around the corner from The Firehouse Pub is Gandy Street. J.K. Rowling went to uni at Exeter, and reportedly spent a lot of time in this pub. The old street was the inspiration for Diagon Alley, which I get. Now, the bar was renamed and looks like a bad imitation of a Disney attraction during Halloween. Of course I went. I mean, this is all about pilgrimages, right?
Many things about England impress me. The people really care about those who are at risk, or unprotected. Exeter is home to a large school and college for the deaf. On High Street, you can find an entire row of charity boutiques. Oxfam is a favorite organization and they actually have three separate shops, right next to each other. One houses books (how I miss bookstores in the U.S.), one houses music - including a large vinyl collection - and the third has clothes and household items. Around the corner is The Heart Association, then The Kidney Foundation, and finally The Hospice Foundation. There was an imitation crown brooch that I should have bought for £4, but didn't. It was a nice walk down to the River Exe, where there are some crazy old intersections, and the old Roman road, complete with observation/toll tower.
Because the intersections were just added onto over the centuries, they are a complete mess. Fortunately, they built Pedestrian Subways underneath the whole thing. Most of the graffiti is incredibly artistic, but a lot of it didn't look any different from ours back in the U.S.
The river slows down, takes a bend, and becomes a quiet quay. Several centuries ago, they built a market awning, several shops and pubs on this bend. Some of the shops are nothing more than little doors covering old caves in the side of the hill. Very cute and quaint.
There's a great pub restaurant called The Prospect where we had lunch with all of the business people in town, it seemed. Many went inside to watch World Cup soccer, which was our plan later in the day. Audrey's friends Caralina (from Portugal) and Chiara (from Germany) came over for dinner, and we went to The Black Horse to watch the game. Nothing better than a British pub crowd watching a soccer match!
OK, maybe going to some live music at the Firehouse with a band who changes popular songs to "funk" music is better? Nope. Hysterical.
Around the corner from The Firehouse Pub is Gandy Street. J.K. Rowling went to uni at Exeter, and reportedly spent a lot of time in this pub. The old street was the inspiration for Diagon Alley, which I get. Now, the bar was renamed and looks like a bad imitation of a Disney attraction during Halloween. Of course I went. I mean, this is all about pilgrimages, right?
Saturday, June 16, 2018
14 June in Exeter
Great to be back in Exeter, home of ancient Roman walls aqueducts, bridges, and towers. Many buildings were destroyed in World War 2, but I didn't think much happened here during the Great War. However, recognition and remembrances are all around.
This poster is in several places in town.
My beautiful studio apartment was right next to these gardens, and they are starting to outline a place to build replica trenches, right behind this next statue. The students love to party in this park.
Most of the town statues call the war the "Great War" and most of the monuments were installed between 1918-1920. This one had a little plaque on the back, recognizing victims from WW2.
Even in the nearby beach town of Exmouth, we found poppy wreaths around the town square monument. They were gearing up for an event later in the summer. It's clear the British are committed to remembering the sacrifices of their soldiers. But, it's time to get into vacation mode. For me, that's more hiking and more history. I'm looking for strange and wonderful sites.
So, here's "The House that Moved,", which was built in the 14th century right next to the Roman Road, moved in the 16th century, and just moved again to make way for Exeter student housing. It's pretty far from campus, but near the Quay and beautiful walks. The remains of part of the road are still attached. You can see the builder wanted to avoid paying taxes, which were based on the footprint of the building. There were no rules against building out over the next few stories, which this house accomplished. It is now an upscale bridal salon. The green plaque talks about it's history, and is attached to rocks, some dating back to 55 A.D.
Here are St. Mary's steps, probably redone in the 14th century with new stones. The cobblestones down the middle probably replaced an ancient, gravity-based sewer system originally developed by the Romans.
On to beaches, and a real vacation tomorrow! Cheers!
This poster is in several places in town.
My beautiful studio apartment was right next to these gardens, and they are starting to outline a place to build replica trenches, right behind this next statue. The students love to party in this park.
Most of the town statues call the war the "Great War" and most of the monuments were installed between 1918-1920. This one had a little plaque on the back, recognizing victims from WW2.
Even in the nearby beach town of Exmouth, we found poppy wreaths around the town square monument. They were gearing up for an event later in the summer. It's clear the British are committed to remembering the sacrifices of their soldiers. But, it's time to get into vacation mode. For me, that's more hiking and more history. I'm looking for strange and wonderful sites.
So, here's "The House that Moved,", which was built in the 14th century right next to the Roman Road, moved in the 16th century, and just moved again to make way for Exeter student housing. It's pretty far from campus, but near the Quay and beautiful walks. The remains of part of the road are still attached. You can see the builder wanted to avoid paying taxes, which were based on the footprint of the building. There were no rules against building out over the next few stories, which this house accomplished. It is now an upscale bridal salon. The green plaque talks about it's history, and is attached to rocks, some dating back to 55 A.D.
Here are St. Mary's steps, probably redone in the 14th century with new stones. The cobblestones down the middle probably replaced an ancient, gravity-based sewer system originally developed by the Romans.
On to beaches, and a real vacation tomorrow! Cheers!
13 June The Rescue Mission.mov
13 June
The fly is out of the water, on a napkin, and trying to get his wing to spread out. But, water has made the diaphanous wing roll up and stick against its ribs. I wish I could say he succeeded within the ten seconds of this video, but, alas, it took another ten minutes before he could fly away. And, actually, he did a lot of crawling before he took off. I'm really not sure why I did this.
The fly is out of the water, on a napkin, and trying to get his wing to spread out. But, water has made the diaphanous wing roll up and stick against its ribs. I wish I could say he succeeded within the ten seconds of this video, but, alas, it took another ten minutes before he could fly away. And, actually, he did a lot of crawling before he took off. I'm really not sure why I did this.
Liberte Fraternite Egalite
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