Nature Talk by Nancy Bain

Birdsong

A week or so ago, a friend and I were walking through a nature preserve and without using our binoculars, we could identify nearly a dozen birds. We heard caw, caw; Chickadee-dee-dee; teacher, teacher; chirp, chirp; jay, jay; peck, peck; peck, peck, peck; shriek, shriek. All around us was birdsong—percussive, lyrical, loud, soft, rhythmic, and, in a strange way, harmonious. I heard it as Nature’s all-encompassing energy in the form of music. I felt invigorated and connected. And that brought to mind three questions: What is music? Why is there music? And is it possible to wipe out music? (N.B. - this last being a variation of a perplexing question, why is there something rather than nothing?)

First, Merriam-Webster defines music as “the science or art of ordering tones or sounds in succession, in combination, and in temporal relationship to produce a composition having unity and continuity.” Second, I say birdsong is the essence of music. From Nature’s design, musicians can find variety and complexities. Birdsong also brings us, not separation, but relationship with the world and its creatures. Research finds that music affects all parts of the brain and nervous system that modulates our heart rate, breathing, digestion, or blood pressure. Thus, Nature aims to maintain homeostasis. All these physical responses—even if it’s for just a moment—point to the sense that we have value and are at one with the world. Birdsong does that and gives meaning to Thoreau’s statement, “Be it life or death, we crave only reality.”  Reality is consciousness. Therefore, Nature’s music, especially birdsong, is consciousness.

But why is there music? Exploring birdsong, we find many emotional evocations. A Killdeer stirs up maternal instincts and respect for a small creature that fights for her progeny crying out its namesake alarm to distract a predator too near the bird’s nest. Birdsong can make us laugh. How the call can fool us—a Blue Jay imitating, say, a Cooper’s Hawk to scare away other birds from a possible food source. A Northern Mockingbird’s birdsong brings awe. Geesh, these guys can mimic 200 or more different sounds, including car horns, revving motorcycles, and ambulance sirens! And then there’s the Barred Owl terrifying us in the dark of night, even though we know the animal is harmless to us. From the highest plane and forest depths, the Wood Thrush lifts us with unfathomable spirituality. Ah! That haunting, watery, lyrical trill. How is it this creature can sing two different notes at the same time? This answers the why of music —in birdsong Nature nurtures human conscience with the best kind of values.

The last question is tricky.  If music is interpreted as just sound, no, it’d be impossible to wipe out music.  I think of jazz, heavy metal, and rap genres that I cannot connect with, but others do. I think of Buzz Aldrin, the second person to walk Earth’s Moon, who found passion there, describing the celestial body’s terrain as “magnificent desolation”—silence, a sound echoing eternity.

But could Homo sapiens wipe out birdsong? Now that is possible. Studies find that, in the last 50 years, North American birds have declined by nearly 50%. Even birds such as the nonnative House Sparrow, with its bland and low-frequency chatter, has declined by 52%. A chilling omen comes from 19th Century, during which hunters and other consumers wiped out billions of Passenger Pigeons in just 50 years. Does it matter to pursue the saving of birdsong? Homo sapiens may exist for perhaps thousands or millions of years. And Planet Earth will keep turning for billions no matter what we do or don’t do. But how heartbreaking it is to think of living in Creation where no birds sing.

I asked my birding friend, what do you think about when you listen to birdsong? She replied, “My thinking pauses, and I feel all the goodness of nature, and I am filled with happiness.”