To a man, ornithologists are tall, slender, and bearded so that they can stand motionless for hours, imitating kindly trees, as they watch for birds.
Interpretation
The quote humorously describes ornithologists as having tree-like qualities while observing birds.
Gore Vidal's quote offers a whimsical portrayal of ornithologists, characterizing them as tall, slender, and bearded individuals who blend in with nature, much like trees. This metaphor highlights both the patience and the observational skills required in the field of ornithology, as well as the deep connection between humans and the natural world.
In practice
This quote can be used in a nature class to emphasize the importance of patience in wildlife observation.
We must declare ourselves, become known; allow the world to discover this subterranean life of ours which connects kings and farm boys, artists and clerks. Let them see that the important thing is not the object of love, but the emotion itself.
American writers want to be not good but great; and so are neither.
Writing fiction has become a priestly business in countries that have lost their faith.
The important thing is not the object of love, but the emotion itself.
For the average American, freedom of speech is simply the freedom to repeat what everyone else is saying and no more.
Ayn Rand's 'philosophy' is nearly perfect in its immorality, which makes the size of her audience all the more ominous and symptomatic as we enter a curious new phase in our society.... To justify and extol human greed and egotism is to my mind not only immoral, but evil.
They claim this mother of ours, the Earth, for their own use, and fence their neighbors away from her, and deface her with their buildings and their refuse.
If we can't afford to take good care of the land that feeds us, we're in an insurmountable mess.
I think global warming is the gravest threat. With global warming, it's the product of a war between old energy - between the carbon cronies, who, by the way, could not stay in business in a true free market capitalism.
Harvest moon: around the pond I wander and the night is gone.
There is not a sprig of grass that shoots uninteresting to me.
Tree limbs rise and fall like the ecstatic arms of those who have submitted to the mystical life. Leaf sounds talk together like poets making fresh metaphors.
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