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We’re already fond of Pink Lawn Flamingos, so we were delighted to learn about a new environmental enrichment program at the San Francisco Zoo. They’re using the iconic pink plastic birds to provide their lemurs with some unexpected psychological stimulation (which also resulted in some awesomely cute photos).

"One form of environmental enrichment involves introducing new objects for the animals to explore. The novelty provides a bit of a mental workout, and the objects provide plenty of tactile stimulation as well. As a bonus, an animal’s response to novelty is sometimes a good indicator of overall mental health: if an animal is fearful of a new object, that could indicate an excessive amount of stress. It is thought that more "optimistic" individuals are more likely to eagerly explore new objects."

Here you see Ringtailed, Red-ruffed, Black-and-white ruffed, and Red-fronted brown lemurs checking out their new pink friends.

Photos by Jessie Greger for the San Francisco Zoo.

[via io9]

To the canyon that came so close
to touching me, I was nothing.
What good was a truck gearing down
to go up to the snow?

Still, the walls of rock held themselves
at arm’s length to make room.
A narrow hall. That wallpaper,
lichens splattered on basalt …

a bedroom carved out around me.
Snow, where had you gone,
taking the road with you?
Where was the door?

The creek had something to say
on this, but not to me.
To the rocks the meltwater tumbled,
to the willows that reddened

at each wet word,
the radio crackled and spat.
And still Willie Nelson sang
in a whiny fuzz.

The pines strained under the weight
of all the dumb sad songs made one.
Love gone to seed,
love buried under snow—

where was a snowbird to feed?
A flock of juncos flung itself
like a lost scarf over the last weeds.
Mist coming down the mountain

to meet someone halfway—
I took off a glove. I lay down
and played angel. The snow held on,
a body of water that wouldn’t melt.

Snow, let go. It’s late,
You are cornmush. You are cold.
Let me cover you with this white sheet.
No one will know.


Debora Greger, “To the Snow”
Image via Danniel Schoonebeek

Now the only chatter that rose

was the birds’, dark wings outspread
to catch the last of the light. Then back
they fell into their deep well of darkness.
At night they clung to its steep sides
in sleep, as the soul must do in life,

in death, unthinkingly, if there is a soul.
—  Debora Greger, from “The Cadillac of the Dead,” Poetry (May 2004)
negyedik felvonás

GREGERS
Én azt hittem, hogy amikor majd belépek az ajtón, a megtisztultság boldog s derűs fénye fogad mindkettőtök arcán. De ti ehelyett leverten, szomorúan…

GINA
Ha csak fény kell… (Leveszi a lámpa ernyőjét)

GREGERS
Maga nem akar engem megérteni, Ekdalné. Rendben van; majd idővel. No de te, Hjalmar? Remélem, számodra tényleg magasztosabb régiók kapuit nyitotta meg ez a nagy megtisztulás?

HJALMAR
Hogyne, persze. Mármint bizonyos értelemben.

GREGERS
Hát van ahhoz fogható élmény az életben, mint megbocsátani a bűnösnek és magunkhoz emelni a szeretet erejével?

HJALMAR
Nagyon keserű volt a pohár, Gregers. Azt hiszed, ilyen könnyű az embernek elfelejteni az ízét?

GREGERS
Nem; egy közönséges embernek biztos nem könnyű. De neked, Hjalmar!

HJALMAR
Jaj, Gregers, tudom, tudom én! Csak ne hajszolj, kérlek. Lásd be, hogy ehhez nekem is idő kell.

ME AND MY FLOWER

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