Speaking the language of birds

Recently during a KIN Village Online session, the children, Daniel and I were discussing Bird Language. I asked the group to think about what the birds might be saying to each other or to them, as humans. The children’s response was, “We know what they are saying!”

The children had such conviction about knowing what the birds were saying. More than that, they felt such a strong connection with birds. The idea of ‘guessing what the birds were saying’ didn’t apply to the children because they ‘knew’. This interaction was more than imagination, more than pretending to have conversations; this was being in relationship and sharing space with another being in nature.

Lella: “Birds respect me, I speak bird. Sometimes I do more sounds back to them to just talk with them.”

Trudi: “And how do they react to you, Lella?”

Lella: “They say, “Thank you and you’re welcome.”

Caleb: “This is my budgie and her name is Luna.”

Trudi: “Can you talk bird language to Luna?”

Caleb: “I have made a call up, it’s just an easy call [whistles]. And we’ve taught her how to talk too!”

Ryan: “I named my birds and I can talk to my birds. They’re magpies, they visit regularly.”

Aria: “I can speak bird. [Makes upward whipping sound]”

This made us reflect on how much we unlearn us adults, how we have unlearned how to connect with the natural world. Children are born with connection to nature and they believe deep in their inner being that they are connected within nature. Their gift of imagination helps them to play with the idea of communicating and being a friend of the creatures around them. They believe so intensely, they know and feel connected with their animal friends and the natural world all around them. They are part of nature.

Aria: “If I was a willy wagtail feather, I would take it with me back home, take a pencil [and draw it], smell it, then I might hear a noise and follow it and then find a nest with two eggs in it.”

Is it possible to actually be something that you find
and be so fully connected that
your heart can lead you to the home of that object?

What a shame that many of us as adults have unlearned this way of being. Is it the realistic thinking we were trained in? Can we no longer believe in fantasy? When do we start to doubt and question ourselves? Do we become cynical of that which is unknown? This sense of realism, that we cannot truly know what a bird is saying, feels like a huge loss.

I wonder if we kept that sense of imagination and connection, if we kept on watching and talking with our bird friends, we would actually understand their language and they ours, that we could become true allies in the natural world. We could live within nature.