{"id":20661,"date":"2019-12-02T05:52:32","date_gmt":"2019-12-02T13:52:32","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.heuermontage.com\/?p=20661"},"modified":"2019-12-02T05:52:39","modified_gmt":"2019-12-02T13:52:39","slug":"merriam-webster-to-the-rescue","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.heuermontage.com\/?p=20661","title":{"rendered":"Merriam Webster to the Rescue"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Post-pandrial torpor, I think it’s called. That state when your brain has taken a leave of absence because the masses of Thanksgiving food require all the available blood supply for digestion. I did not even have to look that up, mind you, such is the familiarity of the experience of eating too much… <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I did, however, peek into the always open dictionary to find some words associated with birds given a) the absence of brain function and b) the fact that I had a magical afternoon last week photographing all kinds of avians. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Here goes, then, all words that originate with birds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Carnard: a false or ungrounded report<\/strong>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Canard<\/em> refers to a duck in French (as in French dishes like confit de canard<\/em>), via the Old French quanart<\/em>, meaning “drake.” The connection to rumor and untruth follows a route of creative phrasing. A 16th-century French idiom was vendre des canards \u00e0 moiti\u00e9<\/em>\u2014literally, “to half-sell ducks,” but used as a colorful way of saying “to fool” or “to cheat.” No one really knows how one half-sells a duck, or where the idiom originated, but the expression was perpetuated enough for canard<\/em> to carry the meaning of something commonly accepted as true that is actually unfounded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It is a canard that I ate an entire cherry pie on Thursday. Not for lack of trying, however.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Auspicious<\/em><\/a>: “promising success” or “favorable.”<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

In Latin, auspex<\/em> means “bird seer,” formed from the noun avis<\/em> (“bird”) and the verb specere<\/em> (“to look”). In ancient Rome, these “bird seers” were priests, or augurs, who based their prophecies on the flight and feeding patterns of birds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Well, your bird seer just hikes around Sauvie Island, camera in hand, with a prophecy that you’ll favor what she saw. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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 Volatile<\/a><\/em>: “characterized by quick or unexpected changes.”<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Four centuries ago, volatile<\/em> was used as a noun, a general term referring to birds or other flying creatures (such as butterflies). Related to the Latin v<\/i>olare<\/em>, to fly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Fly they did – so many, in such compact flocks, the sky filled with the noise of wings flapping and birds shouting. My kind of music.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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 Musket<\/em><\/a>: a muzzle-loading shoulder firearm used primarily in the era before rifles.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Less well known, however, is that the word musket<\/em> can also refer to a male sparrow hawk. This is consistent with the word’s etymology: musket<\/em> derives from the Old Italian moschetto<\/em> (meaning either “small artillery piece” or “sparrow hawk”), which is a diminutive of the noun mosca<\/em>, meaning “fly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Here’s your hawk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Halcyon<\/a><\/em>: “calm or peaceful.<\/strong>” In ancient times, the word referred to a bird now identified with the kingfisher.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In Greek myth, Alkyone, the daughter of Aeolus, the god of the winds, became so distraught when she learned that her husband, Ceyx, had been killed in a shipwreck that she threw herself into the sea and was changed into a kingfisher, later named alkyon<\/em> or halkyon<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Well, I did not capture a king fisher, this time around. But I always feel calm and peaceful when my patience is rewarded with capturing these little sparrows in the black berry brambles. They hop and flutter fast, but if I stand quietly enough for long enough, I’m able to connect with the camera. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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And I got a good laugh out of the Merriam Webster example: <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Remember the halcyon days<\/em> of Facebook, when no one was concerned with who might peep their drunken pictures and angsty missives, and discussions of privacy settings were met with a mix of dismissiveness and apathy? 
\u2014 Jessica Roy, BetaBeat<\/em>, 3 May 2012<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Let’s start the week with some Halycon Days by Purcell…. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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