Interesting and Humour - page 590
You are missing trading opportunities:
- Free trading apps
- Over 8,000 signals for copying
- Economic news for exploring financial markets
Registration
Log in
You agree to website policy and terms of use
If you do not have an account, please register
What happens if you replace translators with computer-assisted translation
My wife and I once found a young swift (it looked very much like a falcon and we thought it was a baby falcon). We brought it home and it was very weak. The first thing we tried to do was to feed it - we gave it baby meat puree. But the chick refused to eat at all.
Two days later, when it was clear that he would starve to death, we took the chick out of town (I've read on the internet that chicks of swifts are often mistaken for falconers and, of course, can not be taught falconry, goo-goo).
I took the chick in my fist, and gently threw it upwards. He was no longer strong enough to fly and fluttering, he corkscrewed into the grass. It was clear that it didn't have enough speed to stay in the air.
So I sprawled out and threw it into the sky with all my might.... The chick spread its wings wide and took off with an occasional flap, enough initial velocity this time. The chick caught the rising air current and began to rise higher and higher in an expanding spiral, until it was a tiny dot in the sky, and then it was gone.
It felt like I had learned to fly. I felt calm and at ease, a sense of freedom overwhelming me at that moment.
My wife and I once found a young swift (it looked very much like a falcon and we thought it was a baby falcon). We brought it home and it was very weak. The first thing we tried to do was to feed it - we gave it baby meat puree. But the chick refused to eat at all.
Two days later, when it was clear that he would starve to death, we took the chick out of town (I've read on the internet that chicks of swifts are often mistaken for falconers and, of course, can not be taught falconry, goo-goo).
I took the chick in my fist, and gently threw it upwards. He was no longer strong enough to fly and fluttering, he corkscrewed into the grass. It was clear that it didn't have enough speed to stay in the air.
So I sprawled out and threw it into the sky with all my might.... The chick spread its wings wide and took off with an occasional flap, enough initial velocity this time. The chick caught the rising air current and began to rise higher and higher in an expanding spiral, until it was a tiny dot in the sky, and then it was gone.
It felt like I had learned to fly. I felt calm and at ease, a sense of freedom overwhelming me at that moment.
My wife and I once found a young swift (it looked very much like a falcon and we thought it was a baby falcon). We brought it home and it was very weak. The first thing we tried to do was to feed it - we gave it baby meat puree. But the chick refused to eat at all.
Two days later, when it was clear that he would starve to death, we took the chick out of town (I've read on the internet that chicks of swifts are often mistaken for falconers and, of course, can not be taught falconry, goo-goo).
I took the chick in my fist, and gently threw it upwards. He was no longer strong enough to fly and fluttering, he corkscrewed into the grass. It was clear that it didn't have enough speed to stay in the air.
So I sprawled out and threw it into the sky with all my might.... The chick spread its wings wide and took off with an occasional flap, enough initial velocity this time. The chick caught the rising air current and began to rise higher and higher in an expanding spiral, until it was a tiny dot in the sky, and then it was gone.
It felt like I had learned to fly. I felt calm and at ease, a sense of freedom overwhelming me at that moment.
My wife and I once found a young swift (it looked very much like a falcon and we thought it was a baby falcon). We brought it home and it was very weak. The first thing we tried to do was to feed it - we gave it baby meat puree. But the chick refused to eat at all.
Two days later, when it was clear that he would starve to death, we took the chick out of town (I've read on the internet that chicks of swifts are often mistaken for falconers and, of course, can not be taught falconry, goo-goo).
I took the chick in my fist, and gently threw it upwards. He was no longer strong enough to fly and fluttering, he corkscrewed into the grass. It was clear that it didn't have enough speed to stay in the air.
So I sprawled out and threw it into the sky with all my might.... The chick spread its wings wide and took off with an occasional flap, enough initial velocity this time. The chick caught the rising air current and began to rise higher and higher in an expanding spiral, until it was a tiny dot in the sky, and then it was gone.
It felt like I had learned to fly. I felt calm and at ease, a sense of freedom overwhelming me at that moment.