Hello all,



I am running a bird class for the third year now, and it promises to be a
weekend of mad naturalist adventures and great birding, batting, and
all-around listening. I was hoping to glean another year's worth of bird
language stories from this well-informed group. In the past I have gathered
tales of jays harassing black bears in Arizona, finding spotted owls in
Green Lake, peregrine falcons chowing on mallards and shorebirds, a raven
schoolroom, swallows telling the funny monkey just where to put the nest
box, and many other wonderful interactions. Class participants love these
stories, and find them a real inspiration for learning about bird behavior.
If you have had neat bird encounters in the past year, and would like to
become part of the "hero tales" of bird observation, please send stories my
way. I can't tell you how much students get out of hearing about these
encounters. I included a bird language example at the bottom of this email,
and you can also hear an audio clip at
http://www.wildernessawareness.org/adult/workshops_bird_language.html. It's
the story of some teenage crows, already out of the nest, and their
disgruntled parents.



Cheers,

Alexia

Alexia Stevens

Wilderness Awareness Residential Program

alexia at wildernessawareness.org

(425) 788-1301 x50

www.WildernessAwareness.org <http://www.wildernessawareness.org/>

Bird Language Weekend June 20-22. Join for the first dawn chorus of the
summer!

Wilderness Awareness School is dedicated to caring for the earth and our
children by fostering understanding and appreciation of nature, community,
and self.



Bird Language goes beyond identification of bird sounds and behaviors into
interpretation. While we can't really know what a bird is thinking, they do
make reliable vocalizations.

Here is an example:

A robin is singing on a low branch in your yard. You hear his cheeryup,
cheerio song.

On your way to get the newspaper, you walk under the branch and disturb that
robin. He flies to a higher branch and gives a tyeep tyeep tut-tut- tut
call, bobbing his tail in annoyance, then resumes singing.

An hour later, that robin's tyeep-tut-tut-tut alerts you to the
cookie-toting Girl Scouts in your driveway.

That afternoon, you hear his song change to a sharp shriek and then fall
silent as he hides in a low thicket. In fact, all the birds outside have
gone quiet. You look out the window and see a Cooper's hawk flapping past.
The robin is part of your awareness, linking you to what is happening around
you...