Johannes Fritz, a biologist, needed to come up with a plan, again, if he was going to prevent his rare and beloved birds from going extinct. 

To survive the European winter, the northern bald ibis (秃鹃) — which had once disappeared entirely from the wild on the continent — needs to migrate south for the winter, over the Alps, before the mountains become blocked. But shifting climate patterns have delayed when the birds begin to migrate, and they are now reaching the mountains too late to make it over the peaks, locking them in an icy death trap. Determined to save them, Mr. Fritz decided he would teach the birds a new, safer migration route by guiding them himself in a tiny aircraft. And he was confident he could succeed in this daring, unusual plan —because he had done it before. 

Mr. Fritz was his young pupils' only provider of food and love since they' d been just a few days old, and the ibises eagerly followed their teacher. He learned to fly, modifying a tiny aircraft so it would fly at speeds slow enough for his winged students to keep up. In 2004, three years after some experiments, Mr. Fritz led the first flock from Austria to Italy, and has since led 15 such migrations. Over that time, he has rewilded (放归) 277 young ibises, many of which then started to pass the route on to their own young. For now, however, the main worry is getting the birds to follow the aircraft. " While they have a strong bond with their ' mothers' and follow them around on the ground, flying is more difficult, "  Fritz said. 

" Fly Away Home was a huge hit with us biologists, "  Mr. Fritz said, recalling the 1996movie in which a Canada geese was led to migrate by an aircraft. When Mr. Fritz claimed he' d do the same with the ibises, he was initially laughed at. But through years of trial and error, he succeeded. He even learned to fly like a bird, he said, laughing with ease. Mr. Fritz' s two sons, both now teenagers, followed their flying father and the migrating birds on the ground, and his family and colleagues witnessed the risks he was taking. But the unexpected risks are " necessary" , Mr. Fritz said. 

" It' s not so much a job, "  he added, " but my life' s purpose. " 

The most hated day of the week is misunderstood. When the Boomtown Rats, an Irish band, released "I Don't Like Mondays" in 1979, the song became an instant hit.

What many do recognise all too well is the difficulty of gathering the energy to get out of bed on Monday mornings in order to face the week ahead. Many bosses argue that starting off the week in person in the office creates good energy. However, plenty of employees beg to differ.

A paper published by the Journal of Applied Psychology, found that people tend to be more ill-mannered on Mondays, and grow more polite as the week unfolds. The authors have diagnosed a new condition, Mondayitis, which is defined as "a systemic illness with collections of symptoms including tiredness, light-headedness, dry mouth and headache". These symptoms typically appear on the first working day after a period off work, which could be a weekend or a longer holiday. They can lead sufferers to call in sick, decide to work from home or, if they do show up in the office, come across as detached (冷漠的) and unavailable. Mondayitis appears to be infecting other days of the week.

However, the covid-19 pandemic has led many people to re-evaluate their work-life balance. A lawyer in London who spends weekends working on cases likes to ease into the formal workweek with an elegant breakfast in a fancy restaurant. A broader movement is promoting the idea of a four-day workweek, one arrangement of which would make Monday part of the weekend. Less ambitiously, and more realistically, a social-media campaign for "bare-minimum Mondays" argues for a gentle start to the week.

You may have prepared or merely enjoyed a more elaborate meal than a sandwich. You may have gone for a walk in the park or simply lay in bed. Either way, you almost certainly cleared your head. When revived and spirited, you will have a fresh start.

On June 7, 1195, a fiery spinning ball emerged from a dark cloud in the sunny sky close to the London city. An account of this extraordinary moment survives in a chronicle (编年史) between about 1180 and 1199 by Gervase. It would appear that this is the first credible record of ball lightning in England, and much more convincing than the earliest European description, which was believed to be from the 17th century.

Historians discovered the account of what appears to be ball lightning while exploring Gervase's records of natural events in his chronicle, a treasure of historical details giving insights into medieval culture. They dug through hundreds of pages in Latin and came across this sighting. Gervase's records of natural events appear within the historical narrative, often with no opening statement, and the account of ball lightning is sandwiched between the events of the changing of kings at that time.

No attempt is made to explain the "marvellous sign" in the sky seen near London. Readers are left to draw their own conclusions. But Gervase appears to have been a sharp-eyed observer and reporter of celestial (天空的) activity. His fanciful description of ball lightning is remarkably similar to modern reports.

For a long time, ball lightning was regarded with skepticism. Although it is now generally accepted as a genuine phenomenon with thousands of reported sightings, there is still no accepted scientific explanation of its origin. Understanding the phenomenon has been blocked by an inability to reproduce the effect convincingly in the lab and partly because of the variations in eyewitness reports. Whatever the case, centuries later, Gervase's record makes stimulating reading for modern scientists as well as historians.