conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a description for a story titled Penguins and Other Seabirds about MATT, SEWELL, Caught with the genre: Arts & Photography, History & Criticism.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: MATT SEWELL is an avid ornithologist, regular contributorto the Caught by the River website, and the author of severalother illustrated bird storys. His work has been exhibited inLondon, Manchester, New York, Tokyo, and Paris.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this story.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Penguins and Other Seabirds
  Seabirds inhabit the planet's greatest wilderness, and thinking of them out there now, in that vast, ever-changing landscape, fires the imagination like nothing else.
  My personal favorite is the gannet—a distant, brilliant white cross, haunting the open seas from high above the waves, until it falls as though shot down, dislocating its wings as it moves between worlds of air and water.
  Mankind has always ascribed seabirds with a certain mystical quality, owing to their prowess in the air, their ease in and on water, their migrational comings and goings, and their sheer volume. They are souls of lost sailors, saints, storm-bringers, omens, witches, and warriors. They are also easy to catch, at risk from man-made as well as natural disasters... no wonder many are endangered.
  As penguins go, this guy is the boss, the sultan of the Antarctic snow. He's the star of Hollywood movies and blue-chip nature documentaries, so high and mighty among his penguin peers that he alone was chosen to represent his species on the wrapper of my favorite chocolate cookie. In his Olympic wetsuit, with eyes darker than Ozzy Osbourne's Ray-Bans, the Emperor is the biggest and heaviest of all known penguins—weighing the same as a fat Labrador retriever and standing just as tall as the dog on its back legs. His bulk isn't gained through being lazy; it comes from his "thermal underwear," a physical necessity to protect him and his offspring from the subzero temperatures of the South Pole as he and his Empress make babies during the winter. The females leave to recuperate after laying their eggs, feeding solo in the ocean while the males, for months, suffer the banshee-wailing whipping wind, snow drifts, and sunless gloom of new fatherhood. With temperatures at -94°F the daddies bunch together in a hundred-strong, rotating huddle, eggs safely tucked up on their shuffling feet inside the warm incubating brood pouch. Soon after the fluffy chicks hatch, the females return from the sea, fat, sleek, and healthy. They relieve the dad of his duties and—like ships that pass in the night—the Emperors slip off to feed themselves on fathoms-deep dives, reaching depths of 1,770 feet and holding their breath for 15 minutes at a time. Wow!
  The shadow that hangs above our penguins. Eggs, chicks, and even adult birds are never safe from the largest and heaviest skua's murderous threat. In their dark domain the whole world is their enemy, and perhaps their prey, too. Colonizing wherever you find penguins, from the Antarctic up to Chile, their story of life and survival has played on repeat for millions of years, and hopefully it will run for millions more.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me another paragraph.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Crested Auklet looks completely ridiculous and smells a little bit like Christmas. It's true—and it's all to impress the ladies. What with the birds' plumage that comes in five shades of gray topped with an effervescent perky crest, their trumpetlike flirtatious calls, and their fabulously fragrant citrus cologne, the Crested Auklet breeding season—on the volcanic islands in the Sea of Okhotsk, in the Bering Sea, and on the cliffs of Alaska—must be like a nightclub on a Saturday evening. Amazingly, the males during this time emit a strong scent that is strikingly similar to tangerines—a smell that will always remind me of childhood yuletides. I hope I find a Crested Auklet in my Christmas stocking this year!
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I hope I find a Crested Auklet in my Christmas stocking this year!. Amazingly, the males during this time emit a strong scent that is strikingly similar to tangerines—a smell that will always remind me of childhood yuletides. What with the birds' plumage that comes in five shades of gray topped with an effervescent perky crest, their trumpetlike flirtatious calls, and their fabulously fragrant citrus cologne, the Crested Auklet breeding season—on the volcanic islands in the Sea of Okhotsk, in the Bering Sea, and on the cliffs of Alaska—must be like a nightclub on a Saturday evening. It's true—and it's all to impress the ladies.The Crested Auklet looks completely ridiculous and smells a little bit like Christmas
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last three paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The mighty, dreadnaught Sea Eagle of Eurasia was once commonplace on the UK's northern rocky shores, but it was sadly persecuted zealously for fear of losing livestock. They finally became extinct in Great Britain in the very early 1900s. The bird is huge, with a brilliant white tail like a cutter's sail, the wingspan of a tanker, the cruel bite of a great white, and talons that, once they have sunk deep into you, are as immovable as an anchor. With these formidable weapons and an expansive large hunting ground, the Sea Eagles soar and ponder merely whether it'll be freshwater or saltwater fish for supper. A close relative of the American Bald Eagle in many ways, but without the striking, emblematic white head, White-tailed Sea Eagles live all the way from Scandinavia, across Russia, and into Japan, not setting foot in the Bald Eagle's US territory. From the 1970s onward, through careful management, White-tailed Sea Eagles were reintroduced to the west coast of Scotland and have successfully bred and now taken the isles of Mull and Skye as home, with great news of them spreading east. I feel Scotland is an appropriate birthplace; they will be looked after there. In Gaelic they were known as "iolar súil na gréine," which means "The Eagle with the Sunlit Eye." I love that.
  It's great spotting a seabird you've never seen before. Even if some of these birds fly (or swim!) a little further afield, you'd be surprised at how many you might be lucky enough to spot. So here's a handy way of keeping all your jottings in check. Get spotting either sitting comfortably at your window or pack your boots and binoculars and go on your travels across the globe. Here's a downloadable PDF. Happy spotting!
  To Megan Lee, all at Caught By The River, Simon Benham, the Free University of Glastonbury and The Crow's Nest, Richard King and the Green Man, JK, the Montague Place Street Team, and all the friendly folk of the Shire.