Actually, there is no Bobbit Sequence. Just that photo on the front page and this one. Which I love.
I'm so glad he allows me to come close. It never feels less special.
I'm thinking about the entanglement between me and Bobbit, the camera and the garden. I take the camera and focus on Bobbit and the light from him moves through the lens to the sensor (no mirror, no reflection, in this camera) to create some digital code stored on the card and translated into pixels on my computer screen. And I take that image (pixels, code) and upload it here and you see it. Uses these devices, I have selected this moment of a robin's life as he sings and acknowledges me and in so doing have made him an object of attention. But in the moment, he is the subject. Deciding to sing, to look at me, not to fly away from the sticky-out lens or the mechanical clicks. He has created the moment. He has. All I have done is to archive it. Well, not all, I am in the moment. The movement that attracts his attention. Perhaps the cause for him singing there, on the fence, not in a tree. So, this is not an image of a robin, this is an image of a robin in relationship with a person, a garden a camera, a fence, other birds, the light, the temperature. I can replicate this image a zillion times, but not the moment it captured - which is rich beyond imagining.
Anyhoo.
Right. This is the Flying Tit sequence.
I love the way birds seem to launch into a fall!
The Two Tits sequence.
These have a magical quality, I think. As much as anything, perhaps, because they are not engaged with me....
The Great Tit sequence.
I think of great tits as liveried footmen. Blue tits are pages. Dunnocks are gardeners. Robins? Messenger boys, maybe.
I love the side-view shape of Bobbit on the front page. He's a perfect shape of an egg -- an egg with eyes, beak & legs !! 😍