Fine Winged Friends

Ornithology is not my strong suit, although I like living
things that can fly. The abilility to fly through the air
like a bird is the image that often inspires our dreams.
In Japan, the Karasu (Jungle Crow the size of a raven) is
viewed with contempt. My Grandmother could teach crows to
talk, and took in a family of crows (they're very territorial)
to protect her corn...as her friendly crows would drive off
their rival crows. It must have been her Native American
genes that gave her such awareness.

At the park near my home here in Japan, I like to sit on a
park bench near the cedar trees at dusk. Before it gets too
dark and the skies turn the color of lavender, small birds
(I don't know if they're swallows or sparrows) fly about
in tight swoops to catch flying insects for their supper.
When the skies become darker, little bats take over the
airborne insect harvesting duties. The bats are much
better flying acrobats than the birds. I marvel at their
aerial ballet. I don't expect to see a version of "Bat
Lake" anytime soon, however...unless it's by Tim Burton.

In Japan, newspaper holidays are observed one Monday
every month. No daily newspapers are delivered on that
day, although one can still buy sports papers and tabloid
rags at convenience stores. This past Monday I went for
my usual twilight walk in the park and noticed that there
were no bats swooping through the air in pursuit of the
flying bugs. Is there a "bat holiday" in Japan? I wonder.

Another subject concerning the bats is: where do they live?
I often see sparrows' nests in the eaves of nearby apart-
ment buildings...even at the train stations. But even as
I bicycle around my neighborhood, I've never seen a bat's
lair. We don't have caves or bellfries around here, so where
do they hang upside down and sleep all day? Secretive and
elusive creatures, these bats.

Yurz, Martin