I was at my computer, which is at a window in my upstairs bedroom, when a female ruby-throated hummingbid began flying back and forth outside, looking in at me. It was clear to me that she was trying to communicate with me to put a feeder there. So I got out a feeder and filled it and hung it from the eve. Not much longer than an hour later, she reappeared and began feeding, as you see in the picture.
The age-old question is "do animals communicate with us?" We know that they communicate with each other - bird songs, and by animals too numerous to mention, calls, growls, hisses, etc.
But more amazing, in Austria, Karl von Frisch observed European honey bees doing a "waggle dance" to tell the other worker where it had found a food source, not only where, but how distant the source was. This, to me, is astounding that a lowly insect could communicate information such as that to each other. That being true, think of how the higher animals' level of communication, both verbal and non verbal, must be.
We once had a cocker spaniel who learned that the word, "trash," meant that I was going to the landfill and she began jumping around eager to go with me . So when I didn't want her to go, to fool her, I began spelling t-r-a-s-h to tell my wife where I was going. Guess what? She learned to spell! Any dog owner will substantiate this. I have noticed that people who don't spend a lot of time in nature observing animals, assign them pretty low status when it comes to intelligence. But we who do, know differently.
Several summers ago paper wasps, Polistes carolina, had built a large nest in a low window off from my deck. I decided to conduct an experiment. Each day I would get a little closer to the nest and they would give me the warning sign consisting of quick movements but not flying off their nest. I would then back off, trying to let them know that I wasn't a threat. Each day I got a little closer and eventually I could hold my finger just next to them. They would still do the jerky movements, at which time I would retract my finger a little.
This is the astounding part and something many people to whom I have told it looked at me as though I was a bit "teched" in the head. I actually got so close with my finger I could very lightly touch them. At first they would give me a tiny sting, not the kind that, when one is chasing you and lights on your neck, it feels like all hell is loosed, but just a little sting that is hardly felt - a message to say, "I don't really fear you, but you are too close." This to me proves that it can regulate the amount of venom it releases. (Biologists know that venomous snakes, like rattle snakes and copperheads do this also). It is a method of conserving the venom when the threat is not great. Again I would move my finger back and repeat it a bit later. I actually, after a while, could lightly stroke the back of a wasp and it didn't sting me.
Just as with people, animals read non-verbal signals, and they are very good at it. Just yesterday out in my yard was an eastern cottontail rabbit that has been hanging around and eating the clover in my yard. A lot of animals are much "tamer" in summer as they are in winter. If I walk perpendicular to and very close to the rabbit and not look at it, it will continue eating, but if I stop and look at it, it is off like a shot. Wolves use this technique. Before forming for an attack on large prey, bison and such, they will amble along looking uninterested and the prey will sense no danger, then slowly they will form into a unit, ready for their attack. This ploy works and the wolves know it.
To me this is not surprising because any animal, to survive, must know and be able to manipulate aspects of its environment, just as we do. Very few of us are so stupid as to jam our hands into a hornet's nest or walk between a mother bear, or for that matter, almost any mother animal, and its young. Do that, and you will need to have your burial insurance paid up.
No comments:
Post a Comment