Doing research this afternoon, I discovered this wonderful compilation by Terry Ross (tross@ubalt.edu) and thought it fascinating enough to share. It’s posted through the Baltimore Bird Club but I offer it here.
Just a quick scan, creates favourites. Some are melancholy: a murmuration of starlings; a pitying of turtle doves. Others lavish: an ostentation of peacocks; a parliament of owls.
Meanwhile, a siege of herons is nesting in the tall trees beside the nearby sea, and I often succomb to a charm of finches. Thank you, Terry Ross, for this.
Group Names for Birds: A Partial List
A bevy of quail
A bouquet of pheasants [when flushed]
A brood of hens
A building of rooks
A cast of hawks [or falcons]
A charm of finches
A colony of penguins
A company of parrots
A congregation of plovers
A cover of coots
A covey of partridges [or grouse or ptarmigans]
A deceit of lapwings
A descent of woodpeckers
A dissimulation of birds
A dole of doves
An exaltation of larks
A fall of woodcocks
A flight of swallows [or doves, goshawks, or cormorants]
A gaggle of geese [wild or domesticated]
A host of sparrows
A kettle of hawks [riding a thermal]
A murmuration of starlings
A murder of crows
A muster of storks
A nye of pheasants [on the ground]
An ostentation of peacocks
A paddling of ducks [on the water]
A parliament of owls
A party of jays
A peep of chickens
A pitying of turtledoves
A raft of ducks
A rafter of turkeys
A siege of herons
A skein of geese [in flight]
A sord of mallards
A spring of teal
A tidings of magpies
A trip of dotterel
An unkindness of ravens
A watch of nightingales
A wedge of swans [or geese, flying in a “V”]
A wisp of snipe
Any of these group names may properly be used by birders who wish to display their erudition, although it is probably linguistically inaccurate (and it certainly is bad manners) to upbraid someone who refers to “a bunch of ravens” by saying, “Surely you mean `an unkindness of ravens,’ my good fellow.” Most of these terms date back at least 500 years. Some of them have been in continuous use since then; others have gone out of fashion and been resurrected in the last century or two; still others only exist on lists.
Most of these terms are listed in James Lipton’s An Exaltation of Larks. Lipton’s list is substantially based on very old sources. There were manuscript lists of group names in the 15th century, and these lists appeared in some of the first books printed in England. Many of them make their first appearance in John Lydgate’s Debate between the Horse, Goose, and Sheep (1440); and Lydgate’s terms along with others appear in The Book of Hawking and Hunting (also known as The Book of St. Albans) by Dame Juliana Barnes (1486). Whether Lydgate and Barnes coined any of these terms, or whether they were setting down the terms that were considered proper in their day is not known. Many of the terms did catch on, and the lists they appeared on were frequently reprinted.
The best source I know for investigating the histories of English words is the Oxford English Dictionary. Unfortunately, on the question whether these terms ever were or still are appropriate, the OED is not entirely helpful. To make sense of the matter, I have placed the group names into groups–
GROUP A–The following group names are standard:
A bevy of quail
A bouquet of pheasants
A brood of hens
A cast of hawks
A charm of finches
A covey of partridges
A flight of swallows
A gaggle of geese
A nye of pheasants
A siege of herons
A skein of geese
A trip of dotterel
A wisp of snipe
GROUP B–These terms are not group names for a particular type of bird, but have been commonly used for many different types:
Colony
Company
Flock
Parliament
Party
GROUP C–These terms are archaic; they were once obsolete, but they have been revived somewhat in the 19th or 20th centuries:
A building of rooks
A murmuration of starlings
A muster of peacocks
A peep of chickens
A sord of mallards
A spring of teal
A watch of nightingales
GROUP D–These terms are obsolete; they appeared on the old lists, but almost nobody has used them in centuries:
A congregation of plovers
A dissimulation of birds
A dole of doves
A fall of woodcock
A host of sparrows
A paddling of ducks
An unkindness of ravens
GROUP E–These terms are not in the OED at all as group names for birds:
A cover of coots
A kettle of hawks
A murder of crows
An ostentation of peacocks
A pitying of turtledoves
A rafter of turkeys
A tidings of magpies
My categories are imprecise, but they provide some guidance about usage. Have no qualms about using any of the terms in group A; use the terms in group B for any group of birds that seems apt; use the terms in groups C and D only if you don’t mind being thought pedantic or literary; avoid the terms in group E unless you know something the OED doesn’t.
Alas, the OED itself is not totally reliable: the word “kettle” (as both a noun and a verb) has been used by hawk watchers for many years, and it has often appeared in print; the OED editors obviously are not birders. It may well be that the other terms in group E appear on the 15th-century lists and were simply missed.
Launching a new book is thrilling. One of the things I enjoy most is reading from my books. It’s one thing to read aloud in front of the computer; it’s quite another to feel the energy of a live audience. Thanks everyone who came and made this moment so special.
At the Gallery Bistro last week, I read one of the scenes where the witches of Hollystone Coven engage in a Summer Solstice ritual at Buntzen Lake in BC. This is the first scene in To Sleep with Stones where we meet Estrada.
Sexy and flawed, Estrada is a free-spirited magician by trade, and high priest of Hollystone Coven by vocation. In this story, he travels to Scotland to solve a mystery and free his friend, Dylan, who’s been imprisoned for murder.
The last eight weeks, I’ve been engaged as a volunteer in a wonderful sleep clinic–testing out various videos, audio tracks, and techniques. Over the years, I’d created a hostile relationship with Sleep. We were enemies, engaged in a battle that I was losing. There were nights I feared that I might never sleep again. And other nights, I felt that I was wasting half my life sleeping. I fought Sleep. I resented Sleep. I craved Sleep.
And I justified my inability to sleep in several ways:
I’m a crazy Vata. “Deepak Chopra says so: “Most Vata people are prone to worry and at times suffer from insomnia, the result of restless thinking. Normal Vata sleep is the shortest of any time–six hours or less is characteristic, growing shorter as one ages.” Deepak–as much as I believe in Ayurvedic healing–legitimized the problem for me. I’m not blaming Deepak, but as soon as I identified with this Vata hell, it became my reality. Or
I’m an HSP (highly sensitive person). Any kind of stimulation in the evening will keep me awake all night. I need to curl up in a cave on the bottom of the ocean to get anywhere close to unconscious. Or
I need the nighttime to process everything I can’t process during the day.
The list goes on.
One thing I realized over the last few weeks is that this “night” time does not have to be for sleep alone. I don’t have to fight with It. Night can be a time to meet my muses, and to descend into varying levels of consciousness. While I am asleep, I can go “on a date” with my characters, play out scenes, visit exotic locales and friends not accessible on this plane. Dreamtime is where and when I write. It’s a place of beauty and promise and magic. Sleep is my friend, not my enemy, and if I unleash a question, I can awaken with an answer.
Here’s an example. Now that books one and two are singing on the shelves, I’m back to writing book three. I actually started writing book three in 2014, then left it to edit and revise the other two. But now, I’m back on Creation Island with freedom splashing like a sea around me. It’s the place of shadows and surprises, of unexpected gifts and connections.
When I started drafting in 2014, I created a character named Leopold. I had photos and written descriptions. I knew his background story, his motivation; knew I had connected with him. Leopold is a key player in book three. But, when I searched for my notes a few weeks ago, they were gone–lost in the mire of new computers and lost USB drives. At last, I gave up and decided to begin again. I remembered the crucial bits of Leopold, and that would have to suffice. Still, I wanted it all. Leopold was my Sangria Niño, my Blood Child.
This afternoon, when I sat down to draft, I had an overpowering urge to sleep. I don’t usually nap, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Literally. You know that image of holding your eyelids apart with toothpicks? It was like that. So, I succumbed and went to bed imagining Leopold.
When I awoke, I knew where he was. I went to the computer, typed in his name and voila! The whole file emerged on my desktop, images and all. Now, when I searched several weeks ago, nothing came up. Perhaps, my fingers had not whispered his name. Perhaps, there were so many other voices in my head, I couldn’t hear his.
So, what I’ve really learned out of this sleep clinic–and I will post the results in a few weeks when they are released–is this. I must listen to my body and my spirit. I must venture into the silence and wander and listen and be still. I must appreciate this solitary landscape as a place of spirit and imagination. And embrace it.
When I finished embracing Leopold, I rummaged through my box of journals from 2014, and found this beautiful card: a gift from an old friend who saw me in the image.
In this moment of stillness, I need to do just one thing. Listen.
Driftwood and BC artists embrace in the sands of time. In this article, Debra Bernier, a Canadian artist from Victoria, reveals goddesses among us. Her work is extraordinary…divinely-inspired. To see more click the link.
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