Tweet Dreams and Flights of the Imagination

TweetDreams_JML2

What do you see when you gaze up at a bird? Just a small flapping bundle of bones, tissue, and feathers? Maybe a winged life-form in search of a mate or on the lookout for its next meal? Perhaps a colorful songster if it’s trilling a pretty tune?

But is that all? Chances are that there’s also something calling forth to deeper dimensions of your being, beyond the surface of empirical and intellectual analysis, to those undercurrents where myth, poetry, folklore, music, and the visual arts live. To the world of dreams and the imagination, the place where deep-seated and powerful emotions play with a language all their own. And if we look closely, our feathered friends take flight from there as well.

When a Bird is not just a Bird

As Freud and other psychologists of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries began exploring the human subconscious, they soon noticed the appearance of birds in their patients’ dreams. This is not surprising. “Dreams about birds are very common and extremely various,” Julia Turner remarked in her 1924 book Human Psychology as Seen Through the Dream (1).

Anybody remotely aware of Freud’s research knows that he frequently ascribed sexual implications to his patients’ dreams. The subject of birds was no different. “The intimate connection between flying and the idea of a bird makes it comprehensible that the dream of flying in the case of men usually has a significance of coarse sensuality,” he wrote in The Interpretation of Dreams, adding that similar content revealed by female patients also indicated “longing.” (2)

The Austrian psychoanalyst’s assessments did not go unchallenged. In particular, Freud’s former protégé Carl Jung saw a greater range of dynamics at work, often extending well beyond sexuality. These aspects typically related to archetypes found in world religions and mythology. Joseph L. Henderson, one of Jung’s followers, indicated that avian creatures often symbolize spiritual release and transcendence (3). Such ideas also correspond in part to those of Julia Turner, who connected birds to a person’s “higher self,” seeing feathered animals as longstanding symbols of the soul (4). A previous post here delves more into the bird-as-spirit cultural element.

On a sidenote, the very nature of dreaming may be responsible for the long-held and widespread association of birds with the soul. In other words, the dreaming state conceivably fostered notions in early societies of a spirit separate from and capable of venturing outside the body. Stanislas Dehaene, a professor of experimental cognitive psychology at the Collége de France, touches on this idea in his 2014 book Consciousness and the Brain. “And the bird,” he adds, “seems the most natural metaphor for the dreamer’s soul: during dreams, the mind flies to distant places and ancient times, free as a sparrow.” (5) Dehaene briefly notes in his book several historical instances of related bird symbolism.

“Therapeutic” Meanings

Birds probably fascinated humans long before the invention of language, which may account for the many ways our winged neighbors continue to entice us. Like the pioneers of modern psychology, British ornithologist Edward A. Armstrong respected the pull that symbols can have on the mind. After all, he devoted several books to bird folklore. Though he embraced science, he also valued so-called “dream thinking” and “folk thinking.” “Probably both types of thinking are therapeutic,” he stated, “because in them the lightly buried, partly repudiated, past finds expression.” (6)

As for the various interpretations of such expressions, ideas advanced by Freudians, Jungians, and others are all probably correct—depending on the individual, his or her culture, and the circumstances. In a sense then how people decipher the avian content of the subconscious mind may be debatable. That birds still rouse feelings of hope and desire, wonder and excitement, continuing to give flight to the imagination, fortunately is not.

Sources:

  1. Turner, J. Human Psychology as Seen Through the Dream. Abingdon, UK: Routledge, 2000 (reprint – first published in 1924 by Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co.). p. 163
  2. Freud, S. The Interpretation of Dreams. Third Edition (Translator: Brill, AA). New York: Macmillan, 1923. p. 239.
  3. Henderson, JL. “Ancient Myths and Modern Man”. Jung CG, et al. Man and His Symbols. New York: Dell Publishing, 1968. pp. 147-156.
  4. Turner, J. pp. 162-163.
  5. Dehaene, S. Consciousness and the Brain: Deciphering How the Brain Codes Our Thoughts. New York: Viking Penguin. 2014. p. 1.
  6. Armstrong, EA. The New Naturalist: A Survey of British Natural History – The Folklore of Birds: An Enquiry into the Origin & Distribution of Some Magico-Religious Traditions. London: Collins, 1958. p. 84.

 

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Birds in Judaism and Jewish Culture

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A look at one of the oldest faiths offers us insights into the many ways birds impact societies. Judaism, of course, is a religion of spiritual and practical guidance, but it is also much more. It’s a living collection of history, songs, wisdom teachings, and customs that support the cultural and ethnic identity of Jews throughout the world. In these sources and practices, avian creatures of all kinds are used as food and offerings, as metaphor and allegory, and as a celebration of life and God.

The ancient scribes of this tradition sprinkled observations on birds throughout their writings. In a few cases the men are seized with wonder, as expressed by the author of Proverbs 30:18-19 who ranks the flight of the eagle among the four enigmas too perplexing for him to understand. Sometimes lines within such texts convey gratitude, as in the way Psalms 104: 12 praises God for the birds that nest and sing. Of course, other examples exist, numerous ones often appealing symbolically or applying to practical matters.

Spiritual Images

Avian metaphors, first and foremost, are common in Jewish scriptures and folklore. Jeremiah 17: 11, for example, claims that folks who are greedy and dishonest are like certain birds, such as partridges, hatching eggs not their own. In several instances, too, the Israelites are compared to birds. Among these, Exodus 19: 4 likens them to an eagle’s offspring (and God to a parent eagle) while Amos 3: 5 uses the metaphor of a sinful people trapped like an ensnared bird. Centuries later, some European Jews even resorted to portraying historical personalities in their art with bird-like features. This was due to Old Testament prohibitions regarding certain types of artistic images (Exodus 20: 4-6, Deuteronomy 5: 8-10). To circumvent these restrictions, a German 14th-century illuminated manuscript called the Birds’ Head Haggadah reveals that artists depicted many humans with avian faces (1). Such hybrid-like creatures, neither existing in the heavenly nor the earthly realms, would have been deemed fine for illustration.

Overall, bird imagery in Semitic literature outside the Old Testament has an imaginative and mystical flare. There’s the giant ziz, the avian equivalent of leviathan, discussed by Talmud scholar Louis Ginzberg (2, 3) and the legends that King Solomon, the wise monarch and son of King David, could understand the language of birds (4). We have descriptions in The Apocalypse of Abraham, a first- or second-century A.D. text of pre-Rabbinic Judaism, of the great patriarch and an angel making their way to heaven by aid of a pigeon’s and turtledove’s wings (5). And in other writings, we learn that sparrows sing as spirits continue to be born, set forth from the Guf, a mysterious storehouse of souls. However, once the last spirit departs from this realm, the songs of sparrows will cease and the world will soon end (6).

Birds for Food and Sacrifice

The number of Jewish scriptures are extensive, but the Torah, the first five books of the Old Testament, remains a central part of the faith. Aside from those passages in Genesis devoted to the creation and great flood, the Torah addresses the role of birds principally (but not exclusively) as a food source. Numbers 11 notes how God, via a strong wind, provided quails for the hungry Israelites at one point during the group’s long journey from Egypt to the Promised Land. Also, Exodus 16: 13-14 tells of these birds being sent by God, along with manna, as sustenance for Moses and his followers. Interestingly, the accounts in Exodus of how God provided for the nomadic Israelites, particularly chapters 15 and 16, are used to support the Ashkenazic Jewish practice of feeding birds on Shabbot Shirah (7, 8), which occurs in either January or February, depending on the Jewish calendar (9).

Quails are among many of the birds permitted as edible forms. However, restrictions on other avian creatures are lain out in the earliest Biblical scriptures. Prior to the Talmud’s clarifications, the Torah’s Leviticus 11: 13-19 and Deuteronomy 14: 11-18 issued dietary instructions for the Israelites’ consumption of birds, by specifying which fowl are not to be eaten. The reasons are debatable as to why certain birds are declared “unclean” (10); however, most of the forbidden fowl listed do consume meat. Eagles, owls, hawks, and other raptors fall into this category. Carrion feeders, such as vultures and crows, are also prohibited as food. These scriptures indicate as well that many kinds of waterfowl, ranging from a broad realm of seagulls to the larger herons, pelicans, and cormorants, are unclean. Again, note that these latter birds consume lots of fish.

Some restrictions are less obvious. For example, add to the list of the unclean, Israel’s national bird, the hoopoe, which occasionally eats small reptiles and amphibians. While this crested bird (pictured above) is associated with King Solomon (11), the creature’s habit of sifting through animal feces to find insects and of messing its nests are far from appealing characteristics. The ostrich is an intriguing entry. Primarily an herbivore, it does not feed on any creatures besides insects. The bird perhaps is banned from consumption due to its reputation for swallowing rocks and metallic objects. Of course, several passages in the Old Testament, such as Job 39: 14-17, Isaiah 13: 21, and Lamentations 4: 3-4, speak negatively of the ostrich for other reasons: its perceived ignorance and predilection for desolate areas. Job 39: 18, however, notes that the bird has the ability to outrun horses.

Besides addressing birds as a form of physical nourishment, the Torah states how some of these creatures are encouraged as offerings. The book of Leviticus cites the frequent role of birds in such customs. For example, Leviticus 1: 14-17 states that only doves or pigeons should be sacrificed as burnt offerings to God. Details regarding specific situations are addressed throughout the book, such as Leviticus 5: 7-10 for sin offerings and Leviticus 14: 1-7 for the ritual purification of those afflicted with skin diseases. No reference is made to chickens, for at the time this book was written those birds were not available to the Israelites (12). Nevertheless, centuries later, domesticated chickens came to be accepted as atonement offerings (kapparot) on the day before Yom Kippur (13).

Birds of Ill Repute

Whereas the dove’s reputation is relatively positive and unblemished, scriptures have presented several birds in a negative light. Genesis 8: 8-12 states that the first bird released was a raven, but it failed to report back to Noah and his Ark. Later, though, in I Kings 17: 2-6, the raven proves much more reliable, for the prophet Elijah, while in hiding, relies daily on them to bring him food. Generally, though, due to their carrion-eating habits, ravens are associated with death and destruction. Proverbs 30:17 states that one who fails to properly respect his or her elderly parents either should or will perish in a manner that affords ravens and vultures the opportunity to feed on that person’s corpse. Isaiah 34: 11-15 indicates, as part of God’s curse, that owls, ravens, and vultures will populate the devastated land of Edom, an enemy nation of the ancient Israelites.

A strong case could be made that of all birds presented in Jewish scriptures, literature, and folklore, the owl is the most despised. After all, during the medieval period, the bird came to be strongly associated with Lilith, a demoness and witch, and in some traditions, the first wife of Adam. She is even named in Isaiah 34: 14 as part of the aforementioned curse on Edom. The ninth-century text Alpha Beta de-Ben Sira (or Alphabet of Ben Sira) offers a much more detailed picture of Lilith. Over time, she was taken to be more than just a temptress and disobedient free spirit; she was also blamed for strangling infants at night during their sleep (14). According to Jewish and African lore, the nocturnal cry of a nearby owl, not surprisingly, was once thought capable of inflicting death on a baby (15, 16).

In Summary

Birds, presented in various forms throughout the Judaic religion, remain a notable part of Jewish life and culture. A brief survey from just the past couple hundred years reveals the continued symbolic importance of these creatures to Jewish writers, as demonstrated in secularized works as diverse as Hayim Nahman Bialik’s poem “To the Bird”, Franz Kafka’s short story “The Vulture”, Chava Rosenfarb’s novel Bociany, Bernard Malamud’s short story “The Jewbird”, and Dahlia Ravikovitch’s poem “The Roar of Waters”. Of course, the scriptures and customs of Judaism continue today to attach significance to our winged neighbors. Many of the world’s other major religions do as well, and those traditions will be explored later.

Sources:

  1. “The Birds’ Head Haggadah: A Medieval Illuminated Manuscript with a Twist”, Jewish Heritage Online Magazine: http://jhom.com/topics/topics/birds/haggadah.htm.
  2. Ginzberg, L. “The Monstrous Ziz and Other Fantastic Birds”, Jewish Heritage Online Magazine: http://jhom.com/topics/topics/birds/ziz.html.
  3. Ginzberg, L. Legends of the Bible. Philadelphia, PA: Jewish Publication Society, 1956, 1992. p. 15.
  4. Ingersoll, E. Birds in Legend, Fable, and Folklore. New York: Longman, Green and Co., 1923. pp. 258-260.
  5. Box, G.A., Landsman, J.I. (Editors and Translators). Translations of Early Documents: Series I: Palestinian Jewish Texts (Pre-Rabbinic): The Apocalypse of Abraham. New York: The Macmillan Company, 1919. Online via Marquette University: http://www.marquette.edu/maqom/box.pdf.
  6. Schwartz, H. Tree of Souls: The Mythology of Judaism. New York: Oxford University Press, 2004. pp. 22, 164-166.
  7. Golinkin, D. “Why is Shabbat Shirah ‘for the Birds’?”, Schechter on Judaism, Vol. 3, Issue No. 4, Jan. 3003. Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies in Jerusalem: http://www.schechter.edu/insightIsrael.aspx?ID=25.
  8. “Shabbats: Special Shabbats”, Jewish Virtual Library: http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/Judaism/specialshabbat.html.
  9. “Jewish Holidays: Tu B’Shevat”, Jewish Virtual Library: http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/Judaism/holiday8.html.
  10. “Clean and Unclean Animals”, The Jewish Encyclopedia: http://www.jewishencyclopedia.com/articles/4408-clean-and-unclean-animals.
  11. Ingersoll, E. p. 60.
  12. “Birds”, The Jewish Encyclopedia: http://www.jewishencyclopedia.com/articles/3316-birds.
  13. “Kapparah”, The Jewish Encyclopedia: http://www.jewishencyclopedia.com/articles/9204-kapparah.
  14. Schwartz, H. pp. 215-226.
  15. Ingersoll, E. p. 186.
  16. Knappert, J. The Book of African Fables. Lewiston, NY: The Edwin Mellen Press, 2001. p. 89.

WANTED: The “Real” Robin

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Just about everything—no matter its size, location, or value—has a name. After all, the process of getting to know something involves identifying it. Your street and city have names. Days, months, and years have them, too, as do galaxies, stars, planets, rocks, plants, atoms, viruses, etc.

Obviously, some folks more than others need a precise and well-established system of naming things. This is true in particular for those working in scientific fields, such as ornithology. As specialists studying birds, many of which migrate from one region to another, ornithologists around the world must be in agreement on what to call a particular bird; otherwise, misunderstandings are bound to ensue. Below is a look at just how easily problems can occur.

A Case of Stolen Identity?

Confusion easily arises when two different species of birds have the same common name. This happens more often than you may think. The popular robin is a prime example. The one chirping in the backyard of an American home is not the same robin singing around the English countryside. In fact, as far as birds go, they’re not even closely related. The American robin—on the left in the line-up above—belongs to the thrush family, while the European robin—the one on the right—is considered a chat (1). This means that 19th-century poets Emily Dickinson and John Clare, both well-known for their poems involving robins, were actually referring to two different kinds of birds.

The two songbirds do possess similar characteristics, mainly the red breast amid an otherwise dark-feathered body. The likeness in their appearance is primarily why the American bird came to be known by the same moniker as another across the Atlantic. Overall, European explorers and settlers encountered lots of birds overseas that were unfamiliar to them. And in many cases, these folks referred to the New World creatures with Old World labels, based primarily on similarities in how the birds looked (2). Unfortunately, the American robin is just one of several birds with a borrowed name.

Borrowed Names Hatch Confusion

In Europe, the yellowhammer is a bunting known for its golden color and erratic flight. The poet John Clare wrote at least a couple poems about the bird, including “The Yellowhammer’s Nest” where he describes the female creature’s most peculiar attribute, laying what looked like “pen-scribbled” eggs (3). On the other hand, when reading Clark Ashton Smith’s short poem “Boys Rob a Yellow-Hammer’s Nest”, one can’t help but notice a critical discrepancy—he describes the eggs as “porcelain-white” (4).

It’s as if the two men are writing about two different types of birds. And, in fact, they are. Though better known today as the yellow-shafted northern flicker of the woodpecker family, the creature in Smith’s poem is also often regarded in the U.S. as the yellowhammer—perhaps in part due to the hammering sounds produced by the wood-pecking bird. Alabama, nicknamed the “Yellowhammer State”, has even named this flicker its official bird (5, 6). However, these two creatures, just like the aforementioned robins, are not closely related.

More Birds in Name—but Not the Same

As with the yellowhammer, New World versions of orioles, warblers, and blackbirds belong to different families than their Old World namesakes (7). For a couple common examples in literature regarding the latter, the North American subject of Wallace Stevens’ poem “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird” is different from the thrush “blackbird” of the popular English nursery rhyme “Sing a Song of Sixpence”. But despite issues such as these, the most confusing instance in identification has to lie with the nightingale. This is because that name has been applied on several continents to a host of different birds.

The songbirds mentioned in the poems of John Keats, Ryokan, and Hafiz of Shiraz are all called nightingales, yet each are from different avian families. A chat’s “plaintive anthem” inspires a terminally ill Keats to write what perhaps is his most famous ode (8). This is the bird we here in the West, of course, still commonly regard as the nightingale. Meanwhile, the uguiso, a Japanese warbler renowned as well for its vocals, is the nightingale cited in the verse of Ryokan, a contemporary of Keats (9). And then there’s the bird featured in the work of Hafiz, the 14th-century Persian poet. His nightingale is the bulbul, a songbird in the Middle East celebrated as the unrequited lover of the rose (10, 11).   And to further complicate matters, some Americans have thought of the virtuoso mockingbird as a “nightingale” (12). Interestingly, 17th-century English ornithologist Francis Willughby even refers to the cardinal as a “Virginian Nightingale” in his Ornithologiae libri tres (13).

Some Simple Solutions

One can easily see that a nightingale is not always the same nightingale another person may have in mind! Location, of course, dictates language, but less so when global communication is at stake. For worldwide conversations, relying on common names can be problematic. But what’s one to do, outside of learning the Latin-based scientific nomenclature? Well, one helpful approach entails cultivating an awareness of possible discrepancies in usage when looking back at historical documents, literature, art, and the like. This method particularly seems feasible for dealing with past occurrences in writings.

For present-day usage, many people, especially scientists, have introduced another solution. To help thwart the confusion that has arisen due to such nomenclature issues, the International Ornithologists’ Union has established a standard set of common English names for all birds (14). This group’s recommendations ensure that no two birds end up sharing the same name. Overall, the uniform standards are helpful. I’m still acclimating myself to the guidelines, a few of which I may continue to skip (e.g., capitalizing names). Nevertheless, at least there’s some clarity available when attempting to speak about two different birds with the same common moniker.

Next week, we will look a little bit deeper at bird names, exploring some of their more unusual and humorous aspects.

Sources:

  1. Wells, D. 100 Birds and How They Got Their Names. Chapel Hill, NC: Algonquin Books, 2001. pp. 212-214.
  2. Wells, D. p. xiv of introduction.
  3. Clare, J. “The Yellowhammer’s Nest”. Poetry Foundation: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/179904.
  4. Smith, C.A. “Boys Rob a Yellow-Hammer’s Nest”. PoemHunter.com: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/boys-rob-a-yellow-hammer-s-nest/.
  5. Wells, D. p. 72.
  6. “Official Symbols and Emblems of Alabama: State Bird of Alabama”. Alabama Dept. of Archives and History: http://www.archives.state.al.us/emblems/st_bird.html.
  7. Wells, D. pp. 12-14, 156-157, 263-266.
  8. Keats, J. “Ode to a Nightingale”. Poetry Foundation: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173744.
  9. One Robe, One Bowl: The Zen Poetry of Ryokan. Stevens, J. (translator). New York: Weatherhill, Inc. 2004. p. 40.
  10. Ingersoll, E. Birds in Legend, Fable, and Folklore. New York: Longman, Green and Co., 1923. p. 49.
  11. Wells, D. p. 151.
  12. Wells, D. pp. 147, 150.
  13. Page, J. and Morton, E.S. Lords of the Air. Washington, DC: Smithsonian Books, 1989. p. 49.
  14. Gill, F. and Donsker D. (Editors). 2014. IOC World Bird List (v 4.4). doi: 10.14344/IOC.ML.4.4.: http://www.worldbirdnames.org/.

Which Came First, the Chicken or the Egg?

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It’s one of the great philosophical questions. And the answer, when glancing at the world’s many creation myths that prominently feature our winged neighbors, may seem every bit as confusing as . . . well, chicken scratch.

Birds as Land Creators

Long before modern science, all civilizations passed along stories that describe how the world as we know it came to be. Often these tales involve one or more supernatural beings who fashioned form out of primordial chaos. For instance, according to a Yoruba creation story, a deity descended from the heavens to establish land upon the great primeval sea. However, to accomplish this task, he brought several items along with him, including a five-toed chicken and a humongous bag of soil or sand. The legend then later attributes the chicken with scratching and spreading the dumped heaps of dirt into land (1). In this scenario (and in most order-from-chaos myths), the chicken presumably precedes the egg.

The Yoruba tale is somewhat atypical, though, for often in similar stories, a kind of waterfowl, such as a diver or loon, diligently collects mud from the bottom of an all-encompassing primordial sea and forms the land. The Seri attribute this act to a great pelican, “a mythical fowl of supernatural wisdom and melodious song” (2). For the Yocut, this bird was a duck who, after emerging to the water’s surface and dying, left the hawk and crow to position the fetched mud into place (3). Throughout history, many seafaring peoples have entertained comparable tales about how the land was brought forth from the ocean’s depths.

Scrambled Eggs

Other creation myths tell of a world that was born into existence rather than formed. Some stories recount how the entities of the universe resulted from the mating of two giant god-like figures. In such cases, the beings are occasionally dismembered and, from their parts springs life—so that the birth is rather a kind of rebirth. A frequent theme in many myths is that the birth of the universe as we know it resulted not from copulating deities—but from a giant egg.

A popular creation narrative, the cosmic egg from which the world hatches has several variations. A few of these relate to one type of fowl. In ancient Egypt, for example, a goose was said to have laid the great cosmic egg (4). This bird is also associated with the Hindu creator god, Brahma, who sprung from a golden egg (5). According to the Rig Veda and the Puranas of Hinduism, parts of the egg or Hiranyagarbha became aspects of the world, such as the sun, sky, and ocean (6).

The goose, though, is not the only bird to spawn a cosmic egg. Similar parallels exist involving other avian creatures. For instance, in a tale derived from classical mythology, the egg comes from the Greek goddess Eurynome while in the form of a dove (7). Also, the first Rune of the Finnish epic Kalevala describes how a duck lays its eggs on the lonely celestial “water-mother” Ilmatar (Luonnotar) (8, 9). As she “. . . moves her shoulders, / Shakes her members in succession, / Shakes the nest from its foundations, / And the eggs fall . . .”, so that the shell fragments, yolk, and other components are transformed into the sun, moon, clouds, etc. (10). In such instances, one could say that the egg—or rather the great egg—came before the chicken.

Unfortunately, there are no tales that I’m aware of about chickens producing eggs of the cosmic variety, but perhaps you may know of one. Please feel free to comment; I’d love to hear about other accounts. However, as to which came first, the chicken or the egg, we should probably let the scientists and philosophers settle that debate.

Sources:

  1. Beier, U. Yoruba Myths. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1980. pp. 7-10.
  2. Ingersoll, E. Birds in Legend, Fable, and Folklore. New York: Longman, Green and Co., 1923. p. 11.
  3. Ingersoll, E. p. 108.
  4. Gimbutas, M.A. The Gods and Goddesses of Old Europe: 7000 to 3500 BC Myths, Legends and Cult Images. University of California Press, 1974. p. 102.
  5. Tate, P. Flights of Fancy: Birds in Myth, Legend, and Superstition. New York: Bantam Dell, 2008. p. 57.
  6. “Hiranyagarbha”. Academic’s Encyclopedia of Hinduism: http://hinduism.enacademic.com/328/hiranyagarbha.
  7. Wilkinson, P., Philip, N. Mythology. New York: Dorling Kindersley Limited, 2007. p. 36.
  8. Tate, P. p. 130.
  9. Crawford, J.M. (Translator). Lönnrot, E. The Kalevala: The Epic Poem of Finland. Cincinnati: The Robert Clarke Company, 1898. pp. 5-13.
  10. Crawford, J.M. (Translator). Lönnrot, E. p. 9.

Migrations to the Moon: When Common Sense Flies South

UnderwaterSwallows_web

Three to four hundred years ago many people actually thought birds were capable of flying to the moon or hibernating on the seafloor. Of course, some folks at that time also believed barnacles could grow into a particular species of goose. Yes, a lot of strange ideas existed before the advances of modern science. Popular but erroneous beliefs included notions that smaller birds caught rides on the bigger birds, and that cranes, in their annual travels, preyed on Pygmies.

Under the Sea or Beyond the Sky?

Obviously, the understanding of birds’ migratory habits was rudimentary at best. Certain birds, such as the cuckoo and swallow, would appear around spring and disappear during the winter. People noticed this cycle, but as to how and why the birds vanished and came back was not so clear. One idea was that some birds, like several mammals, simply slept away the winter. Olaus Magnus, Swedish historian and archbishop, in his 1555 work Historia de Gentibus Septentrionalibus, appeared to think this about swallows, for he writes that fishermen had been known to pull these hibernating birds up from the sea with nets (1, 2, 3).

Magnus’s report on swallows, of course, seems today nearly as incredulous as the 1703 pamphlet “An Essay toward the Probable Solution of this Question: Whence come the Stork and the Turtledove, the Crane, and the Swallow, when they Know and Observe the Appointed Time of their Coming”. This document actually claimed that birds migrate to the moon (4, 5). And, no, this is not a joke!

Imagining our winged friends on a lunar flight or residing under the sea is quite farfetched today. The strained logic behind such mistaken notions, however, is still understandable. After all, the last time some people may have seen certain birds was probably as they were flying over a large expanse of water or beyond the horizon at evening time. Folklore, with its strong associative leanings, could have simply connected the birds’ destination with the last place they were observed.

What was Aristotle Thinking?                           

Even the ancient Greeks, despite their many contributions to science and philosophy, were susceptible to incredible stories. One of the most fascinating accounts of bird migration comes from Homer’s Iliad (Book 3: 1-6), which describes cranes attacking Pygmies (6). Moreover, Aristotle—yes, the great classical philosopher—notes the Pygmies’ African location in his History of Animals (Book 8: Chapter 14). Actually, in his landmark work, the first extensive biology book of antiquity, Aristotle provides the most original detail of any classical writer on birds. Unfortunately, he promotes quite his share of misconceptions, too.

To account for the annual appearance and vanishing of different birds, Aristotle cites migration, but he does so along with a couple other alternate means. For instance, some feathered creatures, he claims, can morph from one species into another, such as redstarts transmuting into European robins and back again (Book 9: Chapter 26). Also, according to Aristotle, several birds, including turtledoves, thrushes, starlings, and some swallows, hide away slumbering for months in seclusion, basically hibernating until warmer weather arrives (Book 8: Chapter 18). Interestingly enough, notwithstanding such off-the-wall notions, Aristotle wasn’t completely wrong about hibernation. Scientists have recently learned that a few birds, such as the common poorwill and swallow, can rest in torpor during brief cool periods (7). Of course, though, they don’t sleep under water, as Magnus asserted.

Despite numerous missteps, our ancestors were clearly not clueless. Thousands of years ago, many people realized that at certain times bird populations traveled from one region to another. References to such cycles can be found in other ancient texts, such as the Bible (e.g., Job 39: 26-30, Jeremiah 8:7), Herodotus’s The Histories (e.g., Book 2: Chapter 22), and Aristophanes’ plays The Birds and The Knights. So, at the very least, ancient people seemed aware when seasonally certain birds arrived and departed.

Of course, by today’s standards our knowledge of bird migration has matured considerably. For more on the intriguing history of how this understanding has developed, including a particular white stork’s important role in the process, please check out this blog post from a scientist at the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds (RSPB).

Sources:

  1. Armstrong, J., Lienhard. R. “No. 2228: Ancient Explanation of Bird Migration”, Engines of Our Ingenuity. University of Houston: http://www.uh.edu/engines/epi2228.htm.
  2. “Migration of Birds: Early Ideas About Migration”, Northern Prairie Wildlife Research Center. U.S. Geological Survey: http://www.npwrc.usgs.gov/resource/birds/migratio/ideas.htm.
  3. Bond, A. “How did we learn that birds migrate (and not to the moon)? A stab in the dark,” 11/3/2013. The Lab and Field: http://labandfield.wordpress.com/2013/11/03/bird_migration/.
  4. “Migration of Birds: Early Ideas About Migration.”
  5. Bond, A.
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