This hormone-free product works to reactivate the hair from your over-plucked or over-waxed eyebrows and restore you natural eyebrow shape. Its ingredients will also help moisturize the hair and skin in the applied area keeping it looking full and healthy.
Guitar is one of the classical instruments that has been invented and had never faded out. Being able to play the guitar is something that you can differ yourself from others. Nevertheless, discovering how guitar works could be really difficult. Yet with help of guitar books and some guitar forum you can learn how to pluck and strum the guitar strings. Guitar books are guidebook for playing the guitar.
Korean Singer Maya's Music Vodeo "Azalea flower"
“Azalea Flowers “ (Trans'n 1) “Azaleas” (Transl'n 2)
When you hate to see me When you go,
And decide to leave, Weary of me,
I’ll quietly let you go. I’ll fondly see you go.
I’ll pluck an armful of azaleas I will gather
In the Yaksan hills at Yungbyun Armful of azaleas
To strew over your path. From Yaksan to adorn your path.
Tread softly on the flowers, Tread softly,
Each step soft and silent. Step by step,
Upon the flowers as you go.
When you hate to see me When you go,
And decide to leave, Weary of me,
I’ll never never shed tears. I’ll bite my lips to stop my tears.
Christina Rossetti - Goblin Market - Read by Kate Reading
by Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)
Morning and evening
Maids heard the goblins cry:
'Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy:
Apples and quinces,
Lemons and oranges,
Plump unpecked cherries,
Melons and raspberries,
Wild free-born cranberries,
All ripe together
In summer weather,—
Morns that pass by,
Fair eves that fly;
Come buy, come buy:
Our grapes fresh from the vine,
Pomegranates full and fine,
Dates and sharp bullaces,
Rare pears and greengages,
Damsons and bilberries,
Taste them and try:
Currants and gooseberries,
Figs to fill your mouth,
Citrons from the South,
Sweet to tongue and sound to eye;
Come buy, come buy.'
Evening by evening
Among the brookside rushes,
Laura bowed her head to hear,
Lizzie veiled her blushes:
Crouching close together
In the cooling weather,
With clasping arms and cautioning lips,
With tingling cheeks and finger tips.
'Lie close,' Laura said,
Pricking up her golden head:
'We must not look at goblin men,
We must not buy their fruits:
Who knows upon what soil they fed
Their hungry thirsty roots?'
'Come buy,' call the goblins
Hobbling down the glen.
'Oh,' cried Lizzie, 'Laura, Laura,
You should not peep at goblin men.'
Lizzie covered up her eyes,
Covered close lest they should look;
Laura reared her glossy head,
And whispered like the restless brook:
'Look, Lizzie, look, Lizzie,
Down the glen tramp little men.
One hauls a basket,
One bears a plate,
One lugs a golden dish
Of many pounds weight.
How fair the vine must grow
Whose grapes are so luscious;
How warm the wind must blow
Through those fruit bushes.'
'No,' said Lizzie, 'No, no, no;
Their offers should not charm us,
Their evil gifts would harm us.'
She thrust a dimpled finger
In each ear, shut eyes and ran:
Curious Laura chose to linger
Wondering at each merchant man.
One had a cat's face,
One whisked a tail,
One tramped at a rat's pace,
One crawled like a snail,
One like a wombat prowled obtuse and furry,
One like a ratel tumbled hurry skurry.
She heard a voice like voice of doves
Cooing all together:
They sounded kind and full of loves
In the pleasant weather.
Laura stretched her gleaming neck
Like a rush-imbedded swan,
Like a lily from the beck,
Like a moonlit poplar branch,
Like a vessel at the launch
When its last restraint is gone.
Backwards up the mossy glen
Turned and trooped the goblin men,
With their shrill repeated cry,
'Come buy, come buy.'
When they reached where Laura was
They stood stock still upon the moss,
Leering at each other,
Brother with queer brother;
Signalling each other,
Brother with sly brother.
One set his basket down,
One reared his plate;
One began to weave a crown
Of tendrils, leaves, and rough nuts brown
(Men sell not such in any town);
One heaved the golden weight
Of dish and fruit to offer her:
'Come buy, come buy,' was still their cry.
Laura stared but did not stir,
Longed but had no money:
The whisk-tailed merchant bade her taste
In tones as smooth as honey,
The cat-faced purr'd,
The rat-faced spoke a word
Of welcome, and the snail-paced even was heard;
One parrot-voiced and jolly
Cried 'Pretty Goblin' still for 'Pretty Polly;'—
One whistled like a bird.
But sweet-tooth Laura spoke in haste:
'Good folk, I have no coin;
To take were to purloin:
I have no copper in my purse,
I have no silver either,
And all my gold is on the furze
That shakes in windy weather
Above the rusty heather.'
'You have much gold upon your head,'
They answered all together:
'Buy from us with a golden curl.'
She clipped a precious golden lock,
She dropped a tear more rare than pearl,
Then sucked their fruit globes fair or red:
Sweeter than honey from the rock,
Stronger than man-rejoicing wine,
Clearer than water flowed that juice;
She never tasted such before,
How should it cloy with length of use?
She sucked and sucked and sucked the more
Fruits which that unknown orchard bore;
She sucked until her lips were sore;
Then flung the emptied rinds away
But gathered up one kernel stone,
And knew not was it night or day
As she turned home alone.
Lizzie met her at the gate
Full of wise upbraidings:
'Dear, you should not stay so late,
Twilight is not good for maidens;
Should not loiter in the glen
In the haunts of goblin men.
Do you not remember Jeanie,
How she met them in the moonlight,
Took their gifts both choice and many,
Ate their fruits and wore their flowers
Plucked from bowers
Where summer ripens at all hours?
But ever in the noonlight
She pined and pined away;
Sought them by night and day,
Found them no more, but dwindled and grew grey;
Then fell with the first snow,
While to this day no grass will grow
Where she lies low:
I planted daisies there a year ago
That never blow.
You should not loiter so.'
'Nay, hush,' said Laura:
'Nay, hush, my sister:
I ate and ate my fill,
Yet my mouth waters still;
To-morrow night I will
Buy more:' and kissed her:
'Have done with sorrow;
I'll bring you plums to-morrow
Fresh on their mother twigs,
Cherries worth getting;
You cannot think what figs
My teeth have met in,
What melons icy-cold
Piled on a dish of gold
Too huge for me to hold,
What peaches with a velvet nap,
Pellucid grapes without one seed:
Odorous indeed must be the mead
Whereon they grow, and pure the wave they drink
With lilies at the brink,
And sugar-sweet their sap.'
Golden head by golden head,
Like two pigeons in one nest
Folded in each other's wings,
They lay down in their curtained bed:
Like two blossoms on one stem,
Like two flakes of new-fall'n snow,
Like two wands of ivory
Tipped with gold for awful kings.
Moon and stars gazed in at them,
Wind sang to them lullaby,
Lumbering owls forbore to fly,
Not a bat flapped to and fro
Round their rest:
Cheek to cheek and breast to breast
Locked together in one nest.
Early in the morning
When the first cock crowed his warning,
Neat like bees, as sweet and busy,
Laura rose with Lizzie:
Fetched in honey, milked the cows,
Aired and set to rights the house,
Kneaded cakes of whitest wheat,
Cakes for dainty mouths to eat,
Next churned butter, whipped up cream,
Fed their poultry, sat and sewed;
Talked as modest maidens should:
Lizzie with an open heart,
Laura in an absent dream,
One content, one sick in part;
One warbling for the mere bright day's delight,
One longing for the night.
At length slow evening came:
They went with pitchers to the reedy brook;
Lizzie most placid in her look,
Laura most like a leaping flame.
They drew the gurgling water from its deep;
Lizzie plucked purple and rich golden flags,
Then turning homeward said: 'The sunset flushes
Those furthest loftiest crags;
Come, Laura, not another maiden lags,
No wilful squirrel wags,
The beasts and birds are fast asleep.'
But Laura loitered still among the rushes
And said the bank was steep.
And said the hour was early still
The dew not fall'n, the wind not chill:
Listening ever, but not catching
The customary cry,
'Come buy, come buy,'
With its iterated jingle
Of sugar-baited words:
Not for all her watching
Once discerning even one goblin
Racing, whisking, tumbling, hobbling;
Let alone the herds
That used to tramp along the glen,
In groups or single,
Of brisk fruit-merchant men.
Till Lizzie urged, 'O Laura, come;
I hear the fruit-call but I dare not look:
You should not loiter longer at this brook:
Come with me home.
The stars rise, the moon bends her arc,
Each glowworm winks her spark,
Let us get home before the night grows dark:
For clouds may gather
Though this is summer weather,
Put out the lights and drench us through;
Then if we lost our way what should we do?'
Laura turned cold as stone
To find her sister heard that cry alone,
That goblin cry,
'Come buy our fruits, come buy.'
Must she then buy no more such dainty fruit?
Must she no more such succous pasture find,
Gone deaf and blind?
Her tree of life drooped from the root:
She said not one word in her heart's sore ache;
But peering thro' the dimness, nought discerning,
Trudged home, her pitcher dripping all the way;
So crept to bed, and lay
Silent till Lizzie slept;
Then sat up in a passionate yearning,
And gnashed her teeth for baulked desire, and wept
As if her heart would break.
Day after day, night after night,
Laura kept watch in vain
In sullen silence of exceeding pain.
She never caught again the goblin cry:
'Come buy, come buy;'—
She never spied the goblin men
Hawking their fruits along the glen:
But when the noon waxed bright
Her hair grew thin and grey;
She dwindled, as the fair full moon doth turn
To swift decay and burn
Her fire away.
Christina Rossetti - Goblin Market - Read by Kate Reading
by Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)
One day remembering her kernel-stone
She set it by a wall that faced the south;
Dewed it with tears, hoped for a root,
Watched for a waxing shoot,
But there came none;
It never saw the sun,
It never felt the trickling moisture run:
While with sunk eyes and faded mouth
She dreamed of melons, as a traveller sees
False waves in desert drouth
With shade of leaf-crowned trees,
And burns the thirstier in the sandful breeze.
She no more swept the house,
Tended the fowls or cows,
Fetched honey, kneaded cakes of wheat,
Brought water from the brook:
But sat down listless in the chimney-nook
And would not eat.
Tender Lizzie could not bear
To watch her sister's cankerous care
Yet not to share.
She night and morning
Caught the goblins' cry:
'Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy:'—
Beside the brook, along the glen,
She heard the tramp of goblin men,
The voice and stir
Poor Laura could not hear;
Longed to buy fruit to comfort her,
But feared to pay too dear.
She thought of Jeanie in her grave,
Who should have been a bride;
But who for joys brides hope to have
Fell sick and died
In her gay prime,
In earliest Winter time
With the first glazing rime,
With the first snow-fall of crisp Winter time.
Till Laura dwindling
Seemed knocking at Death's door:
Then Lizzie weighed no more
Better and worse;
But put a silver penny in her purse,
Kissed Laura, crossed the heath with clumps of furze
At twilight, halted by the brook:
And for the first time in her life
Began to listen and look.
Laughed every goblin
When they spied her peeping:
Came towards her hobbling,
Flying, running, leaping,
Puffing and blowing,
Chuckling, clapping, crowing,
Clucking and gobbling,
Mopping and mowing,
Full of airs and graces,
Pulling wry faces,
Cat-like and rat-like,
Ratel- and wombat-like,
Snail-paced in a hurry,
Parrot-voiced and whistler,
Helter skelter, hurry skurry,
Chattering like magpies,
Fluttering like pigeons,
Gliding like fishes,—
Hugged her and kissed her:
Squeezed and caressed her:
Stretched up their dishes,
Panniers, and plates:
'Look at our apples
Russet and dun,
Bob at our cherries,
Bite at our peaches,
Citrons and dates,
Grapes for the asking,
Pears red with basking
Out in the sun,
Plums on their twigs;
Pluck them and suck them,
'Good folk,' said Lizzie,
Mindful of Jeanie:
'Give me much and many:'—
Held out her apron,
Tossed them her penny.
'Nay, take a seat with us,
Honour and eat with us,'
They answered grinning:
'Our feast is but beginning.
Night yet is early,
Warm and dew-pearly,
Wakeful and starry:
Such fruits as these
No man can carry;
Half their bloom would fly,
Half their dew would dry,
Half their flavour would pass by.
Sit down and feast with us,
Be welcome guest with us,
Cheer you and rest with us.'—
'Thank you,' said Lizzie: 'But one waits
At home alone for me:
So without further parleying,
If you will not sell me any
Of your fruits though much and many,
Give me back my silver penny
I tossed you for a fee.'—
They began to scratch their pates,
No longer wagging, purring,
But visibly demurring,
Grunting and snarling.
One called her proud,
Their tones waxed loud,
Their looks were evil.
Lashing their tails
They trod and hustled her,
Elbowed and jostled her,
Clawed with their nails,
Barking, mewing, hissing, mocking,
Tore her gown and soiled her stocking,
Twitched her hair out by the roots,
Stamped upon her tender feet,
Held her hands and squeezed their fruits
Against her mouth to make her eat.
White and golden Lizzie stood,
Like a lily in a flood,—
Like a rock of blue-veined stone
Lashed by tides obstreperously,—
Like a beacon left alone
In a hoary roaring sea,
Sending up a golden fire,—
Like a fruit-crowned orange-tree
White with blossoms honey-sweet
Sore beset by wasp and bee,—
Like a royal virgin town
Topped with gilded dome and spire
Close beleaguered by a fleet
Mad to tug her standard down.
One may lead a horse to water,
Twenty cannot make him drink.
Though the goblins cuffed and caught her,
Coaxed and fought her,
Bullied and besought her,
Scratched her, pinched her black as ink,
Kicked and knocked her,
Mauled and mocked her,
Lizzie uttered not a word;
Would not open lip from lip
Lest they should cram a mouthful in:
But laughed in heart to feel the drip
Of juice that syrupped all her face,
And lodged in dimples of her chin,
And streaked her neck which quaked like curd.
At last the evil people,
Worn out by her resistance,
Flung back her penny, kicked their fruit
Along whichever road they took,
Not leaving root or stone or shoot;
Some writhed into the ground,
Some dived into the brook
With ring and ripple,
Some scudded on the gale without a sound,
Some vanished in the distance.
In a smart, ache, tingle,
Lizzie went her way;
Knew not was it night or day;
Sprang up the bank, tore thro' the furze,
Threaded copse and dingle,
And heard her penny jingle
Bouncing in her purse,—
Its bounce was music to her ear.
She ran and ran
As if she feared some goblin man
Dogged her with gibe or curse
Or something worse:
But not one goblin skurried after,
Nor was she pricked by fear;
The kind heart made her windy-paced
That urged her home quite out of breath with haste
And inward laughter.
She cried 'Laura,' up the garden,
'Did you miss me?
Come and kiss me.
Never mind my bruises,
Hug me, kiss me, suck my juices
Squeezed from goblin fruits for you,
Goblin pulp and goblin dew.
Eat me, drink me, love me;
Laura, make much of me:
For your sake I have braved the glen
And had to do with goblin merchant men.'
Laura started from her chair,
Flung her arms up in the air,
Clutched her hair:
'Lizzie, Lizzie, have you tasted
For my sake the fruit forbidden?
Must your light like mine be hidden,
Your young life like mine be wasted,
Undone in mine undoing,
And ruined in my ruin,
Thirsty, cankered, goblin-ridden?'—
She clung about her sister,
Kissed and kissed and kissed her:
Tears once again
Refreshed her shrunken eyes,
Dropping like rain
After long sultry drouth;
Shaking with aguish fear, and pain,
She kissed and kissed her with a hungry mouth.
Her lips began to scorch,
That juice was wormwood to her tongue,
She loathed the feast:
Writhing as one possessed she leaped and sung,
Rent all her robe, and wrung
Her hands in lamentable haste,
And beat her breast.
Her locks streamed like the torch
Borne by a racer at full speed,
Or like the mane of horses in their flight,
Or like an eagle when she stems the light
Straight toward the sun,
Or like a caged thing freed,
Or like a flying flag when armies run.
Swift fire spread through her veins, knocked at her heart,
Met the fire smouldering there
And overbore its lesser flame;
She gorged on bitterness without a name:
Ah! fool, to choose such part
Of soul-consuming care!
Sense failed in the mortal strife:
Like the watch-tower of a town
Which an earthquake shatters down,
Like a lightning-stricken mast,
Like a wind-uprooted tree
Like a foam-topped waterspout
Cast down headlong in the sea,
She fell at last;
Pleasure past and anguish past,
Is it death or is it life?
Life out of death.
That night long Lizzie watched by her,
Counted her pulse's flagging stir,
Felt for her breath,
Held water to her lips, and cooled her face
With tears and fanning leaves:
But when the first birds chirped about their eaves,
And early reapers plodded to the place
Of golden sheaves,
And dew-wet grass
Bowed in the morning winds so brisk to pass,
And new buds with new day
Opened of cup-like lilies on the stream,
Laura awoke as from a dream,
Laughed in the innocent old way,
Hugged Lizzie but not twice or thrice;
Her gleaming locks showed not one thread of grey,
Her breath was sweet as May
And light danced in her eyes.
Days, weeks, months, years
Afterwards, when both were wives
With children of their own;
Their mother-hearts beset with fears,
Their lives bound up in tender lives;
Laura would call the little ones
And tell them of her early prime,
Those pleasant days long gone
Of not-returning time:
Would talk about the haunted glen,
The wicked, quaint fruit-merchant men,
Their fruits like honey to the throat
But poison in the blood;
(Men sell not such in any town:)
Would tell them how her sister stood
In deadly peril to do her good,
And win the fiery antidote:
Then joining hands to little hands
Would bid them cling together,
'For there is no friend like a sister
In calm or stormy weather;
To cheer one on the tedious way,
To fetch one if one goes astray,
To lift one if one totters down,
To strengthen whilst one stands.'
Bangkok is excessive in all of its unrestrained glory. Greater, better, a lot more: the metropolis is insatiable, a monster that feeds on concrete, purchasing malls and diesel exhaust. The metropolis demands that you be in the existing and in the second, not necessarily for a spiritual epiphany, but due to the fact the metropolis is self-absorbed and superficial, blissfully no cost of wrinkle-inducing self-reflection. Smiles and sà·nùk (the Thai phrase for ‘fun’) are the crucial passports into Bangkok culture. A compliment right here, a joke there – the demands of social lubrication in this megalopolis are a lot more akin to a tiny village than an anonymous metropolis and a necessity for survival.<br /><br />As Bangkok forcefully kneads out of you all demands for order and predictability, you will understand the well-known Thai smile. It is the metaphorical brakes on the city overdrive. Packed into these concrete corridors are religious spectacle, unapologetic consumerism and multi-flavoured hedonism – corrupting and purifying souls inside of footsteps of every other. A tragicomic confluence of human wishes and aspirations finest seen by means of a detached smile.<br /><br />Of the renowned and notorious sights, Bangkok’s best characteristic is its intermingling of opposites. A modern world of affluence orbits around a serene conventional core. Stage exterior the four-star hotels into a standard Siamese village in which taxi drivers knock again power drinks and upcountry transplants grill chicken on a streetside barbecue. Hop the Skytrain to the glitzy searching malls where by believe in-fund babies examine luxurious makes as thoroughly as the housewives examine develop at the open up-air markets. Or value the attempts at enlightenment at the city’s popular temples and doorstep shrines, or easy acts of kindness amid the urban bustle.<br /><br />You can leap involving all of these worlds – wining and hobnobbing at a chic club, ingesting at a streetside market place, obtaining plucked and pummelled into one thing much more beautiful, or perspiring profusely on a prolonged unplanned march. Bangkok is an urban connoisseur’s dream occur genuine.<br /><br />http://www.dohop.se/reseguide/stader/Bangkok-TH/
Bangkok is excess in all of its unrestrained glory. Bigger, far better, more: the city is insatiable, a monster that feeds on concrete, shopping malls and diesel exhaust. The metropolis demands that you be in the current and in the instant, not always for a spiritual epiphany, but due to the fact the metropolis is self-absorbed and superficial, blissfully no cost of wrinkle-inducing self-reflection. Smiles and sà·nùk (the Thai word for ‘fun’) are the crucial passports into Bangkok culture. A compliment right here, a joke there – the demands of social lubrication in this megalopolis are far more akin to a little village than an anonymous city and a necessity for survival.<br /><br />As Bangkok forcefully kneads out of you all demands for buy and predictability, you will comprehend the popular Thai smile. It is the metaphorical brakes on the city overdrive. Packed into these concrete corridors are religious spectacle, unapologetic consumerism and multi-flavoured hedonism – corrupting and purifying souls within just footsteps of each and every other. A tragicomic confluence of human wishes and aspirations ideal seen by way of a detached smile.<br /><br />Of the famous and infamous points of interest, Bangkok’s finest function is its intermingling of opposites. A contemporary planet of affluence orbits close to a serene classic core. Stage outside the house the four-star hotels into a regular Siamese village in which taxi motorists knock again power drinks and upcountry transplants grill chicken on a streetside barbecue. Hop the Skytrain to the glitzy purchasing malls where by rely on-fund infants study luxury brands as very carefully as the housewives examine produce at the open up-air markets. Or appreciate the attempts at enlightenment at the city’s popular temples and doorstep shrines, or simple acts of kindness amid the city bustle.<br /><br />You can jump amongst all of these worlds – wining and hobnobbing at a chic club, consuming at a streetside current market, acquiring plucked and pummelled into anything far more wonderful, or perspiring profusely on a very long unplanned march. Bangkok is an urban connoisseur’s dream arrive genuine.<br /><br />http://www.dohop.se/reseguide/stader/Bangkok-TH/
Bangkok is excess in all of its unrestrained glory. Bigger, better, additional: the town is insatiable, a monster that feeds on concrete, browsing malls and diesel exhaust. The metropolis demands that you be in the existing and in the minute, not essentially for a religious epiphany, but because the town is self-absorbed and superficial, blissfully free of charge of wrinkle-inducing self-reflection. Smiles and sà·nùk (the Thai term for ‘fun’) are the crucial passports into Bangkok society. A compliment right here, a joke there – the demands of social lubrication in this megalopolis are additional akin to a little village than an anonymous town and a necessity for survival.<br /><br />As Bangkok forcefully kneads out of you all demands for buy and predictability, you’ll realize the well known Thai smile. It is the metaphorical brakes on the urban overdrive. Packed into these concrete corridors are spiritual spectacle, unapologetic consumerism and multi-flavoured hedonism – corrupting and purifying souls in footsteps of each other. A tragicomic confluence of human wishes and aspirations very best viewed by way of a detached smile.<br /><br />Of the famous and notorious sights, Bangkok’s greatest element is its intermingling of opposites. A modern environment of affluence orbits about a serene conventional core. Phase outside the 4-star lodges into a standard Siamese village in which taxi motorists knock back vitality drinks and upcountry transplants grill chicken on a streetside barbecue. Hop the Skytrain to the glitzy buying malls in which trust-fund toddlers analyze luxurious brands as meticulously as the housewives examine make at the open up-air markets. Or appreciate the attempts at enlightenment at the city’s well-known temples and doorstep shrines, or easy acts of kindness amid the urban bustle.<br /><br />You can leap between all of these worlds – wining and hobnobbing at a chic club, eating at a streetside market place, receiving plucked and pummelled into anything much more stunning, or sweating profusely on a lengthy unplanned march. Bangkok is an city connoisseur’s dream come real.<br /><br />http://www.dohop.se/reseguide/stader/Bangkok-TH/
http://SupremeMasterTV.com – Shining World Compassion Award: For the Love of Parrots: Canada’s World Parrot Refuge - P1/3. Episode: 1764, Air Date: 14 July 2011.
Everywhere in the world, we can observe and be touched by acts of kindness. People from all walks of life, faiths, and cultures extend themselves beyond the call of duty to help others unconditionally. Through their noble deeds, humanity as a whole is elevated.
To commend virtuous actions and encourage more people to be inspired by their examples, Supreme Master Ching Hai has lovingly created a series of awards, including the Shining World Leadership Award, Shining World Compassion Award, Shining World Hero and Heroine Awards, Shining World Honesty Award, Shining World Protection Award, Shining World Intelligence Award, and Shining World Inventor Award, to recognize some of the most exemplary, generous, caring, and courageous people who walk amongst us.
Today we present part one of a three part series on the World Parrot Refuge, a non-profit organization that has been honored with the Shining World Compassion Award by Supreme Master Ching Hai. This bird sanctuary, operated by the “For the Love Of Parrots Refuge Society” in Coombs, British Columbia, Canada, provides a “Home for Life” for parrots who have been abused or had a caregiver who could no longer look after them.
Founded by Wendy Huntbatch and her husband, the World Parrot Refuge shelters over 800 parrots from more than 50 species, with the birds lovingly cared for by a team of dedicated staff and volunteers. The facility is open to the public so that everyone can learn more about these wonderful beings. Wendy Huntbatch shares how she and her husband first got started in this amazing adventure.
Well it wasn’t a plan, I can tell you that much. What happened was I had parrots of my own. I had made the mistake of buying one for a pet and felt horribly guilty in a very short period of time realizing what I’d done, that this was totally wrong. So I had to get him a friend so he wouldn’t be alone. And I met my husband who also had a bird. So we bought one for him too and so we had the four. And then there was another one that no one wanted so we had this one. So there were five parrots.
And then in a very short period of time somebody gave us another one. It was an old man and he was going into a home and couldn’t keep the bird. So we said, “This is fine.” So we looked after him. We took our birds to work with us every day. Both of us are workaholics, so we took them with us and brought them home. They had free flight where we were. And if we were going for a dinner or something, we’d put them in big 10 foot flights, two birds to each flight, so that they weren’t compromised in any way and everything was safe.
One night the Huntbatch’s workplace was burglarized, and the next morning the couple discovered that some of their beloved parrot companions had disappeared.
Four of the big birds had gone. It was just a nightmare, a total nightmare for us. So I contacted newspapers, television, and radio. I posted the whole entire town.
Well I’m pretty well known because I’ve been in animal rescue all my life and people trust me. So people started phoning and saying, “I’m sorry. I don’t know where your birds are. I don’t have your birds. But I have a bird I can no longer keep. Would you please take her?” And in two weeks, we had 15 large birds. And I’m talking Macaws here, really large birds.
As more and more parrots came into their lives, Wendy Huntbatch’s husband felt a deep awakening from within, and realized that he had discovered his life’s mission.
My husband is the son of a minister. And his father always wanted him to go into the ministry. But he just didn’t have the feeling to work with people in the ministry. It just wasn’t him. And when the birds started to come in, and he loves birds, he just loves them, and he was covered in these birds, he said, “This is the ministry that God wants for me to do. I have to save birds.” We had just a small business with very little money. But every time more birds came to us, the business did that little bit more.
God made sure we had enough money to look after the birds.
The Huntbatch’s keep their doors and hearts open, and thus their flock of bird companions continues to grow.
Because we’re open to the public and our website is active, people can see us and they just keep coming. This morning I opened my email, “Will you please take my two Amazon parrots?” and “Will you please take my Moluccan Cockatoo?” That was at six o’clock this morning I had those two. So it’s non-stop.
Why do parrot caregivers sometimes no longer wish to look after these beautiful and majestic birds?
The majority of the problems that we see, when birds are e-mailed into me or phoned in to me or brought in to me, people’s lives change. Everybody’s life changes! So they buy something and they want to devote their life to this bird who could live up to 75 years and their life changes. They get married. They get divorced. They have a baby. Mother comes to live with them, mother leaves them, or the grandfather comes. There’s all these changes in life. They move house. They downsize. They have to go out to work. All these things which are normal for us are changing the life of this poor parrot.
Given their long lifespan, some of the birds arriving at the Refuge are already “senior citizens.” But Wendy Huntbatch joyfully accepts them all. Let`s meet Elvis, one of the elder avian residents.
Elvis is a very old man. He’s totally blind. And when I took him to the veterinarian’s office about five years ago, she said, “That’s the oldest Cockatoo I’ve ever seen in my life. He will never see 60 (years of age).” And he’s still going strong. He loves to tear up boxes. This is his favorite pastime. We give him a box and two to three days and it’s gone. As long as he’s happy, we’re happy. It’s okay Elvis.
Sometimes another bird will open the cage and go and visit with Elvis and he likes that.
Some of the parrots brought to the sanctuary have been horribly mistreated. This is the sorrowful case for both Dinky Doo and Lucky Lou.
Every bird that comes in here has a story. We had one come in, Dinky Doo, he’s an Umbrella Cockatoo. But he was a featherless Umbrella Cockatoo who was very, very angry. He was caught in the wild probably 30 years ago and quite often when they catch birds in the wild, they break their wings so they don’t fly away. And people think that’s a benefit because they don’t fly away. So they don’t fix them properly. The bird has to suffer until they mend themselves, (which is) very painful.
And with Dinky, he’d also broken his legs somewhere along his lifetime and the leg was never fixed. So he’s quite crippled. His beak is curved. That’s a deficiency, a vitamin deficiency early in life. So he was so badly treated. So he had next to no feathers. And you could see that his eyesight is very poor. And I think this is part of his anger. And he’d been used by a breeder and I say ``used`` in the full sense of the word. They do use them. But a couple that I know who rescue a lot, they purchased him and brought him to the sanctuary.
And Lucky, she came in about two years before him. Lucky Lou. She was emotionally abused. When she came in, she also had no feathers at all, nothing. Her little body looks like a little human body. The only difference is our hands are like this, theirs grow down for the long wing feathers. That’s the only difference when you look at them. And Lucky is a very sweet little bird but she’d had a horrible time.
She was in the basement of this house because the lady didn’t like to look at her because she plucked her feathers out. So she left her alone in the basement of a house. And when the lady would feed her, I know this is it because her voice was the lady’s voice, she adopted the lady’s voice. She’d stretch up and bring out her little wings, but they were arms because there were no feathers and she’d shake first, then she’d say, “I hate you. I hate you. You’re a bad, bad bird. You’re so ugly, I hate you.”
Well this little bird, her soul was gone. And we cried, but crying didn’t do anything so we knew we had to change things. So we’d start to sing “Happy Birthday to You.” And we looked very foolish and sounded very foolish. None of us can sing. But it changed her thoughts. Now she sings “Happy Birthday.” She has none of those times anymore and she’s grown a number of feathers back. They don’t grow in coordination; they just grow. But this is okay. We love her anyway.
Well when she saw Dinky come in, she goes over and she’s talking to him. And every time a human goes by him, he lashes out. We were bitten quite badly many, many times. And she stopped him from doing this. And progressively during the time, he calmed down. But he also went blind. And he’s totally blind. So she is his “seeing eye bird.” She takes him everywhere. She looks after him. She makes sure that he’s okay. She takes him to the food. If you put new things in for them to play with, she takes him there. It’s very beautiful.
How does the World Parrot Refuge manage to get enough food to feed 800 birds? What happens when a new bird joins this gigantic flock? What is Wendy Huntbatch’s wonderful dream? Join us tomorrow on Animal World: Our Co-Inhabitants as we continue with part two of our three part series on the World Parrot Refuge.
For more details on the World Parrot Refuge, please visit www.WorldParrotRefuge.org
Thank you for your presence today on our program. Enlightening Entertainment is coming up next, after Noteworthy News. Like a bird, may your spirit soar ever higher with each passing day.
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SHAYCARL as GANONDORF
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Directed by WILL WATKINS
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Deku Tree FX and Titles by Tony Lee
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Release date: 2012-07-25