is a harpy eagle

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For the 1st time ever, San Diego Zoo Global researchers have an up-close, canopy view of a harpy eagle nest in Peru! Harpy eagles split parenting duties, so this clip features the male watching over his newborn chick. Called the “HarpyCam,” this new camera documents the daily behaviors of a monogamous pair—male Baawaja and female Kee Wai—and their newly hatched chick. Researchers from San Diego Zoo Global have been working with local partners at Rainforest Expeditions Lodges to manage the video feed as part of a larger citizen science project, AmazonCam Tambopata. Details: http://bit.ly/HarpyRE17

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i got really carried away but I LOVE WINGS!!!! I love birbs and wings and i don’t know why i don’t make more characters with wings. 

Fanart of avian Keith and Shiro from @fishwrites’s Watercast fic! Outfits based on @marchingspace’s design with my own twist! I love designing fantasy outfits with functionality for weird anatomy i also love halter tops with a firey passion.

i’d like to take this moment to say that harpy eagles are my favorite species of eagle. o<-< They’re so cute and silly looking with their poofy crests but so badass. 

rinse the blood off my space toga

“Can I see? Wait, there’s no shafts? it just.. grows in two colours?”
“Er. Not exactly.”
“The other humans’ plumage isn’t near this bright. Are you a born leader?”
“HAH. no.”
“It signifies caste, then? Or a mating display?!”
“Not even close. I went out and paid an artisan to apply a harsh chemical to rip out my natural colouration, then apply this artificial one.”
“That sounds.. unpleasant.”
“Yeah it burned like a <<dog?>>, my scalp was tender for days after.”
“If it doesn’t create any advantages, what’s the point?”
“Ah, it just looks <<rutting>> <<cold>>. What other reason do we need?”
“..humans are weird. .. .. .. do you think it would work on feathers?”

flickr

Harpy Eagle by dpfunsun
Via Flickr

2

I have no shame 

Digger and the Gents are a N*Sync Style boy band with a little bit of classic rock flare here and there. Popular amongst teenagers of all genders, everyone has their Favorite - Digger, the head of the band (middle) is a Total Sweetheart; Eddie, however, is a heartbreaker (far left); Kent (far right) is a shy and quiet soul; Andy (second from the right) is a Trans Man icon; and finally Xander (second from the left) is a Wild Card, a Mystery waiting to be Cracked.  Their latest album, Here Comes the Stomp, is a Feel-Good mix of dance tunes and love ballads that would make anyone swoon. 

Captive Harpy is a Solo Indie Rock artist whose scratchy, soulful voice and Deep Themes have made her popular among various counter-cultural movements. Her previous album, Finding Myself, in which she came out as Bisexual, also made her an idol for the Sapphic community, her song “Let’s care for An Abandoned Chick Together” causing excitement far and wide for lesbian, bisexual, and other sapphic women. Her latest album, My Inner Dinosaur, is said to go deeper into her path of self-discovery and even may touch on some darker themes such as the end-Cretaceous Extinction. Early reviewers have said that if you do not cry while listening to this latest album, you literally do not have feelings. 

anonymous asked:

You know dinosaurs ain't real right?

I turn dramatically to the entirety of birds present on this planet. They all stare at me, expectantly, their little birdie faces looking at me in various expressions and emotions. After all, birds are not one unified group. 

“I’m sorry guys,” I whisper, my voice hoarse and pained. 

One African Grey caws out, “Why are you sorry, Meig?”

I take a long, slow breath, “Tumblr Anon says you’re not real.” 

Thousands of voices caw out in unison. The horror in the air is palpable. A Harpy Eagle screeches in fury, while a Little Blue Penguin waddles up to me at the front of the room. 

“What do we do?” the penguin asks, even though penguins can’t talk, because I mean, does it matter, since penguins apparently don’t exist? 

“We move on, my friend,” I say, patting the penguin on the head, “We move on.” 

Slowly but steadily, the birds fly or walk away, all moving out in unison. Some go to universes where they do exist. Others stay here, as ghosts - remnants of an idea that once was. 

I change the title of ADAD to A Pseudosuchian A Day. I begin talking about scutes instead of feathers. 

But finally, the lies we have all been living under have been exposed.