The End of Tiger Blogfest, but Not the End of the Tiger

It's the end of the Tiger Blog Fest 2010, but if you're not quite sure why I'm going on about tigers, it's entirely my fault, so let me explain.

Since the onset of the Chinese New Year celebrations, we've been living in the year of the tiger. Numbers at tiger social gatherngs are dwindling, but it's not that they're not cool, or that nobody likes them; far from it. It's more that, as is sadly often the case, we've threatened their existence by removing their habitat and taking them from the wild for entertainment, 'medicinal' purposes and such specialities as 'tiger-bone wine'. To save you the trouble of googling it, tiger-bone wine is a drink made from the carcus of a tiger soaked in red wine. Seriously, a bottle of Blossom Hill from the corner shop does the trick, believe me.

That said, there's no point in being gloomy about these things, especially if you're a tiger, 'Carpe diem' and all that, so let's focus on the opportunities to give these beasts a helping hand. The WWF et al. have launched TX2, a campaign to double the number of Malayan tigers by the year 2020. Ambitious? Yes. Impossible? No. It would bring the numbers up to 1,000 individuals and ensure a bit of stability for a species teetering on the brink of uncertainty.

Positive thinking goes a long way, and the power of public support for a cause should never be underestimated. Get talking about tigers or get involved if you want to, just don't get complacent, because there's still a long way to go.

Tigers in Society...

You don't see many tigers in Cardiff. Or in Bournemouth. Or anywhere else in the UK really, but whilst pondering what to write about tigers it struck me that they're pretty much everywhere:

At the pub...


...at breakfast...


...and in the news...


...and they'll probably be lurking in those areas for some time to come. Make sure they continue to grace forests too. Check out this website for further information.

Tiger Tiger...

The Tiger Blogfest 2010 is a week where participating blogs write about tigers and the challenges we face if these magnificant creatures are something we'd still like to have gracing our planet in years to come.

As a little lead-in to a tiger-tastic week, I've decided to post a classic poem, 'The Tiger', by William Blake who is far more capable at describing such a majestic animal. Throughout the week will be various tiger-related postings, so check back for a selection of tiger-art, facts and features.

The Tiger
by William Blake

Tiger, Tiger, Burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And, when thy heart began to beat
What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? What the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger, tiger burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

Pigeon Dance

Due to coursework commitments I have been unable to write anything at all coherent that doesn't involve titi monkeys/nocturnal song-bird behaviour/bats/climate change so I thought I'd tide you over with this incredible piece of television. Enjoy:

How to lose a bed

I've been away on camp helping to 'supervise' twenty-eight teenagers, although they probably should have been supervising the staff if we're honest.

Despite arriving several days late due to a wedding (and may I say what a splendid wedding it was too; congratulations to Diana and Adam!) I still managed to witness bowling, swimming, visits to various sections of an RAF station, tackling a high ropes course and a football match in which I scored a goal. Okay, so the goal-keeper may have let the ball past everso slightly on purpose, but we won't mention that bit. Thanks to National Rail's flawless logic, I also had the chance to visit five different train stations to travel what would have been a straight trip up the M40, had I driven.

One particularly tiring day, having just returned from the high ropes course at 10pm, I was quite looking forward to going to bed. It happened to be the night I was on overnight duty, sleeping in the office, and I'd just about made sure that everybody was in the correct accomodation and had ten minutes until 'lights out'. I returned to the office to flump down onto the less-than-comfy-but-perfectly-adequate-bed, to find that my bed had completely vanished!

The bed frame was stood on one end without any sign of a mattress, or for that matter the desk, chair or bedside cabinet that had been in the room quarter of an hour previously. Slightly puzzled, and cursing certain other pesky staff members, I went on a mission to recover the stolen goods. The majority of the furniture was retrieved from a utility room and the mattress eventually sprang out of a cupboard at the unsuspecting reverend!

The moral of the story? Constant vigilance! (And that means you too Bed-Stealers!)