If birds are the messengers
Then what is the message?
Should I be joyful or be sad?
Is the message good or is it bad?
Who am I to judge what they say?
Perhaps it is better to get on with my day
But then it wakes me at night, my inquisitive brain
Are they foreshadowing doom, forecasting rain?
Alas, my angst is quelled by the predawn chorus
Filtering into my dreams, taking me deep into the forest
Soft greens surround me
Thrushes’ fluted notes my lullaby
Carry me to a better place
Now I go there when the message is too heavy
Birding in many languages
I was fortunate to learn languages other than English, including French, Spanish and Portuguese. My knowledge of and interest in birds boosted my language learning curve. Whenever I travel, I try to learn some of the bird names in the local language. I’ve even learned some bird names in the Cree dialects spoken around James Bay in Northern Ontario and Quebec, where I’ve been fortunate to work. The fact is that there are people interested in birds everywhere on earth. If you take the time to learn some bird names in the local language, you have the basis for a conversation, and that can lead almost anywhere!
Once you learn the names of some species in different languages, sometimes you prefer the species’ name in a different language than your maternal tongue. For example, take the hummingbirds, a large family of small birds with thin, pointy beaks, fast-moving wings and the ability to hover while extracting nectar from a flower. In French (and Spanish), the hummingbird is called a colibri, though you often hear it called oiseau-mouche in Quebec, because it’s not much larger than a big fly. In Portuguese, the hummingbird is called a beija-flor. Translated into English, that means “flower kisser.” I prefer that name to hummingbird (the bird that hums) or oiseau-mouche (the bird that looks like a fly).
Nature and birds as healers
I feel like one of the lucky ones who has one of those special bonds with nature—hard to describe but more than a feeling. As long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to know about those with whom I share the air, the water and the soil. The more I know about them, the more I feel a sense of community and don’t feel alone.
Learning the names of the birds, other animals, plants and mushrooms around me opened a door to the bigger community of life. This doesn’t just mean seeing them but also hearing them. Maybe that’s what elevates birds for me: they sing and we hear. Best of all, their songs aren’t just a form of communication, telling us who they are and what they are doing. Birdsong is also music, and music reaches our spirit and triggers emotions.
One of the seminal moments with birdsong for me happened when I was eight years old, shortly after my mother left this world. We were at our reverend’s house. I think he was providing emotional support to the family—my father, my 11-year old brother and me. All I recall was that he was playing an LP record of bird songs. And I know it had a great therapeutic effect on me. Is that when my love and fascination with birdsong started, or did it reinforce what was already there? I think the latter is more likely, as most of my memories of my mom were of us outside in nature. To this day, there’s nothing that lightens my heart more than birdsong.
Several years later, in my mid-teens, still fascinated with birds, I remember being obsessed with solving a mystery of a haunting flute-like song in the forests where I would walk Hippy, our dog. It took me a couple years, and my first pair of binoculars, before I finally spotted the source of the indescribably beautiful song: a wood thrush. Listen to the wood thrush song and you’ll understand. Humans could never invent such a beautiful ethereal sound.
Birding forever
Today anyone who knows me also knows that I’m “always” birding. My auditory radar is always turned on. If a bird outside sings, or even makes a simple call note, it will register in my brain, and I’ll identify it if I can. Even when I’m asleep, when birdsong outside filters into my bedroom or tent, it integrates itself into my dreams. More times than I can count, I recall identifying bird songs in my dreams and waking to hear the same birds singing nearby.
Birds have been a blessing in my life. Maybe it’s because I believe that nature is far bigger than any species and way smarter than we could ever be. Nature doesn’t need us, but we need Nature.
