The more scientists study birds, the more they will discover that amazes them.  Of course birds can tell us apart!  They can tell one another apart, and that’s much more difficult. Birds are incredible creatures.

Read a story recently where a parrot saw a baby choking and the babysitter was in the bathroom.  The bird flew against the door shrieking Momma, Baby over and over again until the babysitter could go and see what the problem was.  The baby (actually, toddler) was choking and the bird’s alert saved her life.  So birds watch, learn and are smarter than just perch sitting tweeters.

My favorite story, however, is about  a friend’s parakeet that liked to sit on the rim of a glass and sip liquid.  This one time it thought an ice cube was solid ground and stepped off the rim onto the cube and fell right in the glass.  It flew out and looked mighty indignant and provided me with a good laugh.  However, the owner and the bird didn’t think it was so funny.

I had to refer to the sited article in order to understand why the birds went into defensive mode (students were instructed to act threatening). Even though, why would these scientists not already know that wildlife has the ability to recognize particular others, even if they happen to be human? Imagine all the fund money going into these studies…

A few of us unwittingly became part of a "study" with a common pigeon a number of years ago. He was a baby abandoned and dumped from his nest. I rescued him from the ground. That afternoon a few of us tried every human food we thought appropriate nearly in vain until one finally got gobbled up. Hence, I named him Mickey (from the commercial in which the brother says, "Mikey likes it."). I read that pigeons actually become adults in two weeks so three of us took on the challenge. Soon, we took him to a park to release him. Upon checking on him the next day, who comes swooping in with pigeon calls to rest on a shoulder but Mikey— and this went on for weeks when ever any of us three moms came calling. Even if the family dog was present. As time went on Mikey’s arrival seemed delayed until one day we actually had to seek him out. Of all reasons for the delay it seemed Mikey had found a mate. We all sensed Mikey was finally ready to "leave the nest", and we were right. For awhile the two pigeons circled when any of us were in the area but there were no more landings. We three decided to let Mikey go and stayed away from the park longer days at a time.

These findings were funded by the kindness of three hearts, a cardboard box with a light and old rags for warmth and bowls of watered down cereal. And a curious dog.

Tell me about it.  They sure do know when I’m out in my garden.  So do the blue jays.  When their babies are taking flying lessons, they’ll go after me and occasionally they’ll buzz me.  The robins are very laid back, and as long as I leave them alone, they leave me alone, and don’t seem alarmed when I get near the nests.

My grandmother was an excellent seamstress.  A country girl, she recognized over 30 bird calls.  While sewing near an open window, a mockingbird would appear daily,  and the two of them would sing together for over an hour. She would know when he was near because he would make the clacking sound of her old peddle sewing machine.

I feed the birds every day.  The minute they see me, they start a loud chatter to remind me to hurry!

Contrary to what some of the WOW’ers may believe, most of my long days are spent doing other than exploring the various interesting threads on this website. Almost all of my time is spent at the piano. Not just the same piano, because I own several, which are divided between two home studios. One upstairs and one downstairs. When I work in the upstairs studio, which is about eight or ten feet from wonderfully large branches of pine trees growing right outside my windows, the birds hear me at the piano and I truly believe they gather in those pines to hear what I am playing. When I stop for a break, they jump from branch to branch in a restless manner, as if wondering if the concert is really over. Eventually they go away. They obviously can hear when I return to my post, because they reappear and settle down comfortably for the next concert. On days when I work out of the downstairs studio, some of the upstairs audience apparently hears me at work and they line up on the split rail fence that surrounds the house. Again, they seem to enjoy the music although I can’t say that I have ever heard any encouraging bird whistling to accompany my music. I console myself about this by excusing their nonsupport because the music they hear is all new. It is almost always in the stage of composition, and of course they don’t know the tunes, because they have never heard them before. All of this is evidence enough for me to believe that birds are quite alert to recognizing things that are going on around them. (I actuallythink they like my stuff).