Bill saved the male bluebird from a sharpie
who barreled between the forsythia and garage, picked the male bluebird
off the clothesline pole, and carried him, shrilling, for a distance
before Bill's yelling scared the hawk into dropping him! People speak of the "butterfly effect,"
describing the unknown consequences of a seemingly irrelevant action.
Taken to its extreme, one flap of a butterfly's wings in Brazil might
alter the atmosphere sufficiently to cause a tornado in Texas. Though I
couldn't know it, this moment, for me, would herald eight years of the
bluebird effect. -From the first chapter. Zickefoose's writing has been
featured on NPR's All Things Considered.
Most people would love to be able to fly like a bird, but few of us are
aware of the other sensations that make being a bird a gloriously unique
experience. What is going on inside the head of a nightingale as it
sings, and how does its brain improvise? How do desert birds detect rain
hundreds of kilometers away? How do birds navigate by using an innate
magnetic compass? No one who reads
Bird Sense can fail to be dazzled by it.
Jon Young is guided in his work and teaching by three basic
premises: the robin, junco, and other songbirds know everything
important about their environment, be it backyard or forest; by tuning
in to their vocalizations and behavior, we can acquire much of this
wisdom for our own pleasure and benefit; and the birds' companion calls
and warning alarms are just as important as their songs. Birds are the
sentries--and our key to understanding the world beyond our front door.
Suddenly the crow turns his head, caws softly, and
glides away, landing on a lamppost directly above a blonde woman. The
woman, Lijana Holmes, smiles and calls him "Bela" as she offers him a
breakfast of eggs and meat, which she prepares daily. Five-and-a-half years ago we captured Bela
and affixed light plastic rings to his legs for identification. So
whenever he sees us, the old crow cocks his head, stares, takes flight
and swoops low--right at us--screaming a harsh call that we immediately
recognize as a bird scold. His family and neighbors hear the cry and
join in, flying toward Bela to support his attack, and soon they, too,
share his rage. The mobbing crows circle and scream above our heads just
as they would do to a predator. Bela's discriminating actions give us
remarkable and invaluable information, proving that crows can recognize
and remember human faces. We wonder when, or if, he will ever forget (or
forgive) us. The gifts of the crow are physical, metaphorical, and
far-reaching. - From the Preface
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