Themes of Swan Maiden Lore

swanmaiden2

Birds are symbols of freedom and elusiveness, sensuality and romance, even tragic love. All these characteristics and more are prevalent in one of the most widespread of fictional narratives, the so-called swan maiden tales.

Though variations exist, these stories frequently feature beautiful women who present as swans or other avifauna1 until they disrobe to bathe or swim. Conflict ensues when a male interloper sweeps away one of the maidens to be his bride. Voyeurism, coercion, deceit, sacrifice, betrayal, and third-party meddling are common plot elements, so tales like these tend to explore a range of power dynamics. Storylines often address whether true love can develop between the maiden and her captor/rescuer.

Trials of Love

For the protagonists’ relationship to survive—and it doesn’t always—the two usually must transform psychologically (especially to nurture or rebuild trust), and in some cases, physically (so that either are both human or both avian). As an example of the latter, in an ancient Irish text, the Celtic deity Óengus turns himself into a swan so he can join his swan princess Caer Ibormeith.2, 3 In a Swedish story with a different scenario and outcome, a hunter years later returns his wife’s confiscated feathered cloak. By doing so, however, he unwittingly reveals his culpability in the garment’s theft, destroying the relationship. The wife instantly morphs back into a swan and flies away, never to return.4, 5 “Happily ever after” is not a given, but in those tales where the woman resumes form as a bird and departs, reunion is possible if the husband can prove his love by completing a difficult trek to successfully locate her.6

Different versions of swan maiden tales exist throughout the world, with the Asian continent an important source of several. A couple (“The Story of Janshah” and “Hassan of Bassora and the King’s Daughter of Jinn”) are included in the One Thousand and One Nights (or Arabian Nights).7 Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake, however, is probably the most well-known example. In the nineteenth-century Russian composer’s ballet masterpiece, Odette and Prince Siegfried are tested by a scheming sorcerer and his daughter. The two lovers die tragically but are reunited happily together as spirits.8 Though Swan Lake is arguably the most famous of such tales, the oldest likely originates from ancient India in the account of King Purūravas and the celestial nymph Urvaśī, two lovers tricked into violating a vow that results in their separation.9, 10

Narratives like these clearly transcend time and cultures, probably because romantic relationships and their dynamics are of universal interest. Part of such lore’s appeal may also lie with birds in general, a subject that has long fascinated the imaginations of poets, storytellers, and artists. Swans are significant due to their associations with grace, beauty, and the otherworldly, all aspects desirable to humans. The swan maiden stories acknowledge both the affinities and differences between our world and those represented by birds. Many of these tales offer us hope that humans are capable of great change and love.

Sources:

  1. For one of the earliest studies of this subject, please refer to the two chapters devoted to swan maidens in ES Hartland’s The Science of Fairy Tales: An Inquiry into Fairy Mythology. London, UK: Walter Scott, 1891. pp. 255–332. Hartland notes that swans are not the only birds found in such stories, citing instances including doves, vultures, and other waterfowl. In some cases, the maidens do not appear as birds at all. As for men, they—rather than women—appear occasionally in avian form (e.g., the Brothers Grimm’s “Six Swans” and Wagner’s opera Lohengrin). On a related note, in the myth-inspired poems and paintings depicting the rape of Leda by the Greek god Zeus, a masculine deity is the one who morphs into a swan. This myth, however, is not considered part of swan maiden lore.
  2. Sax, B. The Serpent and the Swan: The Animal Bride in Folklore and Literature. Blacksburg, VA: McDonald & Woodward, 1998. p.64.
  3. Gantz, J. Early Irish Myths and Sagas. New York: Penguin, 1982. pp. 108–112.
  4. Yolen, J. Favorite Folktales from Around the World. New York: Pantheon, 1986, pp. 303–304.
  5. Booss, C. Scandinavian Folk & Fairy Tales: Tales from Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Finland & Iceland. New York: Crown, 1984. pp. 248–250.
  6. DL Ashliman, Professor Emeritus of German at the University of Pittsburgh, includes several of these stories among his online collection of featured swan maiden tales: http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/swan.html.
  7. Campbell, JJ. The Way of the Animal Powers: Historical Atlas of World Mythology (Volume 1). London, UK: Alfred van der Marck, Summerfield Press, 1983. p. 186.
  8. Sax, B. pp. 161–162.
  9. Sax, B. p. 63.
  10. Leavy, BF. In Search of the Swan Maiden: A Narrative on Folklore and Gender. New York: New York University Press, 1993. pp. 33–63.
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The Ancient Art of Augury

auguryPatterns exist throughout nature. For people ages ago, such things were considered messages from the gods. Decoding these encrypted communications was at the heart of ancient divination, a common practice of early civilizations.

Divination methods in antiquity varied in scope. Nearly anything could be viewed as an expression of divine will and available for interpretation, including dreams (oneiromancy), heavenly bodies (astrology), and entrails of sacrificed animals (haruspicy). Ornithomancy or augury, as it’s more commonly known, covered the domain of avian activity.

Primarily associated today with the Roman Empire, ancient augural forms concentrated on certain types of birds, using their appearance, flight, calls, and feeding to anticipate the likelihood of favorable or unfavorable occurrences.1 An owl perching near a public square signaled ominous potential;2 chickens gobbling grain before a possible battle suggested divine support for a military incursion.3 (More about the chickens shortly.) Most signs were sought (impetrative), but some were not (oblative/prodigal). In the case of the latter, the gods were interpreted as making statements through extraordinary incidents, usually as a harbinger to some punitive calamity.4

Popularity and Possible Origins

Much of what is known about augury in the classical world comes from the writings of the ancient Romans. The subject played a critical role in that culture’s politics and religion. Romulus, the mythical founder of Rome, was said to have selected the site of his city based on a sighting of twelve large raptors, either vultures or eagles. The story is recounted by Cicero, the first-century BCE Roman orator, in his On Divination (Book 1). Cicero’s contemporary Virgil relates several instances of augury in his Aeneid, the principal politico-literary work of the Roman Empire.

“Sacred chickens” were integral to the augural activities of the empire. Senior officials consulted their feeding habits (to eat = positive; to not eat = negative) for decisions involving military and administrative action. The birds even traveled in cages with armies, requiring a chicken-keeper (pullarius) to maintain and care for the fowl. The Roman historian Livy (64/59 BCE–17 CE) details aspects of this augural practice in Book 10 of his History of Rome. There he also provides an account of the capital punishment inflicted on an augor/auspex for relaying a false reading.5 The Romans took their augury and chickens seriously!

The use of birds for divining purposes however predates the rise of Rome. Thousands of years old, the practice appears to have developed earlier in Asia Minor (Turkey). The first-century Roman naturalist Pliny the Elder attributes augury’s origins to a single person, an ancient king of this region. While all-too convenient and simple, this dubious reference in his Natural History (Book 7) may hint at the practice’s long-venerated status in that area.6

Application and Eventual Demise

Reported instances of augury occurred throughout the Anatolian peninsula and in other places along or near the eastern Mediterranean. Some of the earliest writings on this form of divination come from this region’s ancient Hittites,7 more than a couple millennia prior to Pliny. Homer’s Iliad describes the practice among both the Greeks and Trojans. For example, an eagle sighted clutching a small fawn, released for sacrifice to Zeus, inspires valor in the Greek warriors (Iliad, Book 8). One of the oddest accounts from ancient sources regarding birds and divination is by Dionysios of Halikarnassos, a first-century BCE Greek historian. He writes of a temple where a woodpecker and doves serve as oracles.8

For the ancient Romans, though, conducting auspices was not about predicting the future. It was a formal system, more ceremonial than prognostic, developed for gauging whether the gods felt positively or negatively about a proposed action. 9, 10 In essence, think Magic 8 Ball rather than crystal ball. Before matters such as calling forth a public gathering or advancing troops in combat, consultations were routinely made.11, 12 The official then could either heed or ignore the assessment.13, 14 On the whole, since augury was sanctioned by the government, checking again later was advisable to simply disregarding the reading. After all, the gods could change their minds and circumstances turn favorable.

In time, major societal shifts and upheavals led the Romans to abandon their gods and ritualized augury practice. Only a few everyday reminders of that ancient pastime remain. One is through language, with words such as auspicious and inauguration.15 Another, though not directly related to Roman augury, exists in similar but less complicated avian divination forms in folklore (e.g., weather forecasting).

Sources:

  1. Adkins, L, Adkins, RA. Dictionary of Roman Religion. New York: Facts On File, Inc., 1996. p. 23.
  2. Beard, M, North, J, Price, S. Religions of Rome (Volume 2). New York: Cambridge University Press, 1998. p. 174.
  3. Scheid, J. (Translator: Lloyd, J.) An Introduction to Roman Religion. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 2003. p. 116.
  4. Scheid, J. (Translator: Lloyd, J.) pp. 113, 114, 117.
  5. Jaucourt, L. (Translator: Goodman, D.) “Poulets Sacrés (Sacred Chickens).” The Encyclopedia of Diderot & d’Alembert. Vol. 13 (1765), p. 203. Ann Arbor, MI: Michigan Publishing (University of Michigan Library): http://quod.lib.umich.edu/d/did/did2222.0000.865/–sacred-chickens?rgn=main;view=fulltext.
  6. Mouton, A, Rutherford I. “Luwian Religion, A Research Project: The Case of ‘Hittite’ Augury.” Luwian Identities: Culture, Language and Religion Between Anatolia and the Aegean. (Editors: Mouton, A, Rutherford, I, Yakubovich, I.) Boston, MA: Koninklijke Brill NV, 2013. pp. 338–339.
  7. Mouton, A, Rutherford I. pp. 329–330.
  8. British archeologist Sir William Halliday proposes that clerics in avian costume , rather than actual birds, at the Matiene temple as the “most plausible explanation” of these oracles in Dionysios’s report (from Book 1 of Roman Antiquities). For more information, please see Halliday, WR. Greek Divination: A Study of Its Methods and Principles. Chicago, IL: Argonaut, Inc., 1967. pp. 265–266, 268.
  9. Adkins, L, Adkins, RA. pp. 23–24.
  10. Scheid, J. (Translator: Lloyd, J.) pp. 112–114.
  11. Beard, M, North, J, Price, S. p. 166.
  12. Scheid, J. (Translator: Lloyd, J.) pp. 113–116.
  13. Adkins, L, Adkins, RA. p. 24.
  14. Scheid, J. (Translator: Lloyd, J.) p. 113.
  15. Oxford Dictionaries. “Under the Auspices of White Elephants?!” OxfordWords blog: http://blog.oxforddictionaries.com/2013/01/phrase-and-punctuation-origins.

Arrrgh! Parrot Mateys!

ParrotPirate

“Here’s Cap’n Flint—I calls my parrot Cap’n Flint, after the famous buccaneer”, says Long John Silver to the young Jim Hawkins. And so with the introduction of this saucy-tongued, sugar-nibbling bird in Treasure Island arises the trope that indelibly connects pirates with these pets.

Borrowing from Robert Louis Stevenson’s late 19th-century novel, pop culture has since bolstered this image. Parrots are depicted with pirates in subsequent literature, such as the Swallows and Amazons children’s book series of English writer Arthur Ransome, and in numerous cinema features, most notably Disney’s animated version of the J.M. Barrie classic Peter Pan and also the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. And if all this wasn’t enough, a costumed parrot mascot even performs at professional baseball games for the Pittsburgh Pirates.

Only One Cap’n Flint?

On the surface, the notion that a few sea marauders of the Atlantic kept pet parrots seems plausible. After all, Christopher Columbus reportedly brought back dozens of the birds from his voyages, even offering a couple Cuban Amazon parrots as gifts to Spain’s Queen Isabella (1, 2). Within years of the explorer’s first expedition to the Caribbean, the parrot trade surged. The birds fetched high prices from wealthy and high-ranking Europeans who fancied the exotic creatures (3). By the 17th and 18th centuries, buccaneers frequented tropical areas. And while there, some would have taken parrots and other exotic animals onboard, if not as pets then at least for purposes such as bribery or trade at coastal settlements (4).

Under the Black Flag, David Cordingly’s historical accounts of maritime piracy, and Parrot Culture, Bruce Boehrer’s book detailing the socio-cultural impact of his avian subject, both credit Stevenson’s novel for popularizing the pirate-parrot link (5, 6). However, no mention is made specifically of sea brigands who considered such birds as their pets. In this sense, Boehrer refers to Stevenson’s Cap’n Flint as an “artistic embellishment” (7). On the other hand, Cordingly relates several accounts of buccaneers bribing English officials, offering the birds as a form of enticement or as a shrewd manner for acquiring favors (8). Whether any pirates kept parrots as companions seems questionable. Clearly, though, the sea brigands had access to the birds, as did many adventurers of that time.

“Pieces of Eight!”

Aside from buccaneers, seaman, and merchants who sailed overseas, only the wealthiest and most well-connected of people could obtain parrots. Pirates, though, didn’t really need them as pets, even if some may have occasionally regarded parrots as “souvenirs of their travels” (9). The value of these creatures is still undeniable, but other items held much greater interest for buccaneers. For the most part, they were seeking treasure as well as the replenishment of food and drink, arms, and supplies for their ships (10).

As to the reasons behind the parrot’s popularity with European aristocrats, a couple of characteristics must be considered. First, the bird hailed from far-away origins and boasted colorful plumage. Second, along with its exotic features, the parrot’s ability to mimic human language made it a highly desirable conversation piece—literally—for collectors (11). Obviously, the repeated litany of comments from Long John Silver’s pet created a lasting impression on pirate enthusiasts. Yet for the young protagonist in Treasure Island, the experience appears to be more than just unforgettable.

Jim Hawkins reports at the end of Stevenson’s novel that he’s still haunted by nightmares of Cap’n Flint. In those dreams, the green parrot continues to squawk excitedly about Spanish silver coins. “Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!”(12)

Sources:

  1. Lederer, R. Amazing Birds: A Treasury of Facts and Trivia about the Avian World. London: Quarto Publishing, 2007. p. 81.
  2. Boehrer, B.T. Parrot Culture: Our 2500-Year-Long Fascination with the World’s Most Talkative Bird. Philadelphia, PA: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2004. p. 54.
  3. Robbins, L.E. Elephant Slaves and Pampered Parrots: Exotic Animals in Eighteenth-Century Paris. Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2002. pp. 25-29.
  4. Cordingly, D. Under the Black Flag: The Romance and the Reality of Life among the Pirates. New York: Random House Trade Paperbacks, 2006. pp. 9-10.
  5. Cordingly, D. p. 8.
  6. Boehrer, B.T. pp. 114-116.
  7. Boehrer, B.T. p. 115.
  8. Cordingly, D. p. 9.
  9. Cordingly, D. p. 9.
  10. Cordingly, D, pp. 107-109.
  11. Boehrer, B.T. pp. 4-5.
  12. Stevenson, R.L. Treasure Island. New York: Penguin Group USA, 2008.

Which Came First, the Chicken or the Egg?

cosmicEgg_web

It’s one of the great philosophical questions. And the answer, when glancing at the world’s many creation myths that prominently feature our winged neighbors, may seem every bit as confusing as . . . well, chicken scratch.

Birds as Land Creators

Long before modern science, all civilizations passed along stories that describe how the world as we know it came to be. Often these tales involve one or more supernatural beings who fashioned form out of primordial chaos. For instance, according to a Yoruba creation story, a deity descended from the heavens to establish land upon the great primeval sea. However, to accomplish this task, he brought several items along with him, including a five-toed chicken and a humongous bag of soil or sand. The legend then later attributes the chicken with scratching and spreading the dumped heaps of dirt into land (1). In this scenario (and in most order-from-chaos myths), the chicken presumably precedes the egg.

The Yoruba tale is somewhat atypical, though, for often in similar stories, a kind of waterfowl, such as a diver or loon, diligently collects mud from the bottom of an all-encompassing primordial sea and forms the land. The Seri attribute this act to a great pelican, “a mythical fowl of supernatural wisdom and melodious song” (2). For the Yocut, this bird was a duck who, after emerging to the water’s surface and dying, left the hawk and crow to position the fetched mud into place (3). Throughout history, many seafaring peoples have entertained comparable tales about how the land was brought forth from the ocean’s depths.

Scrambled Eggs

Other creation myths tell of a world that was born into existence rather than formed. Some stories recount how the entities of the universe resulted from the mating of two giant god-like figures. In such cases, the beings are occasionally dismembered and, from their parts springs life—so that the birth is rather a kind of rebirth. A frequent theme in many myths is that the birth of the universe as we know it resulted not from copulating deities—but from a giant egg.

A popular creation narrative, the cosmic egg from which the world hatches has several variations. A few of these relate to one type of fowl. In ancient Egypt, for example, a goose was said to have laid the great cosmic egg (4). This bird is also associated with the Hindu creator god, Brahma, who sprung from a golden egg (5). According to the Rig Veda and the Puranas of Hinduism, parts of the egg or Hiranyagarbha became aspects of the world, such as the sun, sky, and ocean (6).

The goose, though, is not the only bird to spawn a cosmic egg. Similar parallels exist involving other avian creatures. For instance, in a tale derived from classical mythology, the egg comes from the Greek goddess Eurynome while in the form of a dove (7). Also, the first Rune of the Finnish epic Kalevala describes how a duck lays its eggs on the lonely celestial “water-mother” Ilmatar (Luonnotar) (8, 9). As she “. . . moves her shoulders, / Shakes her members in succession, / Shakes the nest from its foundations, / And the eggs fall . . .”, so that the shell fragments, yolk, and other components are transformed into the sun, moon, clouds, etc. (10). In such instances, one could say that the egg—or rather the great egg—came before the chicken.

Unfortunately, there are no tales that I’m aware of about chickens producing eggs of the cosmic variety, but perhaps you may know of one. Please feel free to comment; I’d love to hear about other accounts. However, as to which came first, the chicken or the egg, we should probably let the scientists and philosophers settle that debate.

Sources:

  1. Beier, U. Yoruba Myths. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1980. pp. 7-10.
  2. Ingersoll, E. Birds in Legend, Fable, and Folklore. New York: Longman, Green and Co., 1923. p. 11.
  3. Ingersoll, E. p. 108.
  4. Gimbutas, M.A. The Gods and Goddesses of Old Europe: 7000 to 3500 BC Myths, Legends and Cult Images. University of California Press, 1974. p. 102.
  5. Tate, P. Flights of Fancy: Birds in Myth, Legend, and Superstition. New York: Bantam Dell, 2008. p. 57.
  6. “Hiranyagarbha”. Academic’s Encyclopedia of Hinduism: http://hinduism.enacademic.com/328/hiranyagarbha.
  7. Wilkinson, P., Philip, N. Mythology. New York: Dorling Kindersley Limited, 2007. p. 36.
  8. Tate, P. p. 130.
  9. Crawford, J.M. (Translator). Lönnrot, E. The Kalevala: The Epic Poem of Finland. Cincinnati: The Robert Clarke Company, 1898. pp. 5-13.
  10. Crawford, J.M. (Translator). Lönnrot, E. p. 9.

Halcyon Days—Here Again?

halcyon

Today marks the first day of the so-called “halcyon days”—or does it?—a period of 15 days in December first recognized by ancient Mediterranean civilizations for its tranquil weather. During this brief time winds calm and storms typically abate, so that the so-called halcyon birds could supposedly build their nests upon the waters.

Some classical texts indicate that for the first seven days prior to the winter solstice, these birds constructed nests from fish bones, while during the seven days after, they tended to their eggs and hatchlings. Aristotle writes of this process in Book 5, Chapter 8 of his The History of Animals. Several ancient writers reiterate the claim, including Pliny and Plutarch (1). Other sources, as we shall see, appear to dispute the time period, indicating an earlier arrival of the halcyons’ brief mating season.

But are halcyon days something that actually occurs? Aren’t these birds just a mythological concept? Or do they actually have real-life counterparts? Where does the myth end and the truth begin?

When the Winds First became Still

The origin of the halcyon bird goes way back thousands of years. It’s rooted in a mythological love story involving Alcyone and her royal husband Ceyx. The Catalogue of Women (usually attributed to the Greek poet Hesiod, possibly a contemporary of Homer) and Metamorphoses by Roman writer Ovid are two popular sources, among others. Despite several variations in the tale, the crux remains the same. Ceyx perishes in a shipwreck and a distraught Alcyone dashes into the sea. The gods react with compassion, reviving her husband by transforming him into a bird. They, too, of course, turn her into a bird so they are both alive and alike again.

Halcyon days apparently resulted so the two feathered lovers could mate without disturbance on the sea. Such calm periods are noted in Halcyon, a short dialogue sometimes dubiously attributed to Lucian of Samosata. According to Ovid’s account (Book 11 of Metamorphoses) Alcyone’s father Aeolus, the demigod and wind keeper of Homer’s Odyssey (Book 10), halts the winds for several days each year for his daughter. Ancient writers such as Aristotle, Simonides, Pliny and others link the period of tranquility for mating halcyons to Sicily (2). Incidentally, while to the south of Sicily lies Malta, to the north are the Aeolian Islands—the namesake of Alcyone’s father.

The Real Halcyon, New Lore

Although we know today that the halcyon is a mythical creature, the bird interestingly has a real-life counterpart. Since the halcyon is described in several texts, such as in Book 9, Chapter 15 of The History of Animals (Aristotle again), as a blue and green bird comparable in size to a sparrow, the creature later became associated with the kingfisher. In fact, some of the scientific taxonomical names for kingfishers are derived from the word “Halcyon”. However, unlike the mythical halcyon, the common kingfisher nests in burrowed holes along lakes, river banks, and seashores (3).

A host of new lore also ended up developing around the kingfisher, due to the bird’s link to the ancient stories. In fact, the conflation of the Alcyone myth (romantic love associations) and halcyon days (wind associations) with the kingfisher has resulted in some peculiar practices during parts of history. For instance, according to ornithologist Peter Tate, “… the Tartars of Eastern Europe and central Asia believed kingfisher feathers could be turned into powerful love talismans. The method was to throw plucked kingfisher feathers into water, collect all those that floated, and then stroke the hapless object of affection with one of them” (4). In the late 19th-century, John Ashton notes an even stranger application: “If a dead Kingfisher were hung up by a cord, it would point its beak to the quarter whence the wind blew” (5). Belief in the dead bird’s wind-detecting ability, as Ashton adds, even found its way in the plays of William Shakespeare (King Lear, Act 2, Scene 2) and Christopher Marlowe (Jew of Malta, Act 1, Scene 1). Several decades later in 17th-century England, Sir Thomas Browne’s Pseudodoxia Epidemica, criticized such practices as scientifically erroneous (6).

Separating Myth from Reality

Much of the lore surrounding the kingfisher, of course, is clearly without merit. Although the birds are monogamous, they can mate several times throughout the year, usually starting in the spring or summer (7).  Also, the idea of halcyon days as a set period of time in December is far from universally accepted in Europe, even in areas near Sicily, where the mating ritual is noted by several ancient sources. In some parts of Europe halcyon days is akin more to what we call Indian summer here in North America, occurring as early as November. For example, when Shakespeare refers to halcyon days in his play The First Part of King Henry VI (Act 1, Scene 2), his Joan of Arc equates it with “St. Martin’s summer”. British folklore scholar Venetia Newell points out, “In France, especially, the kingfisher is associated with St. Martin, whose day (November 11th) often falls within a period of fine weather before the onset of winter” (8). Furthermore, in Malta where kingfishers can reside from August to April, the birds are also associated with St. Martin of Tours rather than the winter solstice (9).

So what are we to make of all this? Have halcyon days passed us by? Perhaps such brief periods are not something actually restricted to a calendar. Perhaps they are simply feelings of serene bliss and beauty, at times contingent upon an experience or setting. They may become available when, as Walt Whitman writes, “all the turbulent passions calm…”, or while, like Ogden Nash states, “… We vegetate, calm, and aesthetic, / On the beach, on the sand, in the sun” (10, 11).

Perhaps in these days of ratcheting pressures involving holiday season preparations, we can still find some respite, no matter who we are or where we live, whether celebrating with others or relaxing in contemplation. With a few deep breaths, our mind—like Alcyone’s mythical nest—occasionally can settle into near stillness upon the oft-turbulent sea of existence. Maybe, in such moments, halcyon days can be found… here and now, again and again.

Sources:

  1. Ingersoll, E. Birds in Legend, Fable and Folklore. New York: Longman, Green and Co., 1923. p. 21.
  2. Ingersoll, E.
  3. “Kingfisher”. Avibirds Bird Guide Online. http://www.avibirds.com/html/Kingfisher.html.
  4. Tate, P. Flights of Fancy: Birds in Myth, Legend, and Superstition. New York: Bantam Dell, Delacorte Press Hardcover Edition, 2008. p. 70.
  5. Ashton, J. Curious Creatures in Zoology with 130 Illustrations throughout the Text. London: John C. Nimmo, 1890. p. 200.
  6. Browne, T. Pseudodoxia Epidemica. 1646; 6th, 1672 (http://penelope.uchicago.edu/pseudodoxia/pseudo310.html).
  7. “Kingfisher”. Avibirds Bird Guide Online.
  8. Newell, V. The Folklore of Birds and Beasts. Tring, Herts., U.K.: Shire Publications, 1971. p. 39.
  9. “Kingfisher”. Malta Independent Online. http://www.independent.com.mt/articles/2014-02-07/news/the-kingfisher-3899883521/.
  10. Whitman, W. “Halcyon Days”. Walt Whitman Archive: http://www.whitmanarchive.org/published/periodical/poems/per.00093.
  11. Nash, F.O. “Pretty Halcyon Days”. Best Poems: http://www.best-poems.net/ogden_nash/poem-13465.html.