Hey. You know how Humans use the phrase ‘bird-brained’ to be dismissive or denigrating? Think on this, folks: Those ‘bird-brains’ have the sense to go South for the Winter, which is more than I can say for many Humans (including me). And here’s a strange little story.
As a child, we had a tree just outside one of our windows. One Spring my mother called me to the window, pointing out a pair of robins that were making a nest right where we could watch easily. The mother was easy to distinguish, because she had a black spot in the middle of her breast. Over the following weeks we watched them daily, seeing the nest take shape, be lined with mud and breast down feathers, and then the laying of the eggs.
Things progressed nicely, chicks hatched, and we watched as the parents reared them. At last, they fledged and flew, and disappeared. We thought that was it. Were we ever wrong.
The next year, she was back. Another nest, another successful brood, another departure. For five more years, she graced our tree, and then we saw her no more. However.
One of her chicks had a similar white spot on her breast, but this one had a black dot in its center. Two years later, out on our lawn, there was the chick. She hopped about, picking worms and grubs, then flew up into the tree by the window and inspected, seeming to be deciding whether to build a nest there. She saw movement inside the window and faced us, turning her head inquiringly to the side. She stayed for several minutes, but then flew off.
Mother said that she just had come to say “Hello!” Sadly, we never saw her again.
Now how, for a bird-brain (a creature with an entire brain the size in diameter of my index fingernail), did either of them manage to find not only the general locale but the exact same tree after migrating a distance of more than a thousand miles round trip? In 75 years, I still have not found a satisfactory answer to that question.
Hey. You know how Humans use the phrase ‘bird-brained’ to be dismissive or denigrating? Think on this, folks: Those ‘bird-brains’ have the sense to go South for the Winter, which is more than I can say for many Humans (including me). And here’s a strange little story.
As a child, we had a tree just outside one of our windows. One Spring my mother called me to the window, pointing out a pair of robins that were making a nest right where we could watch easily. The mother was easy to distinguish, because she had a black spot in the middle of her breast. Over the following weeks we watched them daily, seeing the nest take shape, be lined with mud and breast down feathers, and then the laying of the eggs.
Things progressed nicely, chicks hatched, and we watched as the parents reared them. At last, they fledged and flew, and disappeared. We thought that was it. Were we ever wrong.
The next year, she was back. Another nest, another successful brood, another departure. For five more years, she graced our tree, and then we saw her no more. However.
One of her chicks had a similar white spot on her breast, but this one had a black dot in its center. Two years later, out on our lawn, there was the chick. She hopped about, picking worms and grubs, then flew up into the tree by the window and inspected, seeming to be deciding whether to build a nest there. She saw movement inside the window and faced us, turning her head inquiringly to the side. She stayed for several minutes, but then flew off.
Mother said that she just had come to say “Hello!” Sadly, we never saw her again.
Now how, for a bird-brain (a creature with an entire brain the size in diameter of my index fingernail), did either of them manage to find not only the general locale but the exact same tree after migrating a distance of more than a thousand miles round trip? In 75 years, I still have not found a satisfactory answer to that question.