Of the many homes in my neighborhood, perhaps the most dynamic are the homes in the dead maple tree in my back yard. Over the years Acorn Woodpeckers have progressively excavated more holes to bring their children into the world. This is particularly a blessing because these woodpeckers don’t chose just any old dead tree – it has to sound right, with just the right balance of wood body and decay, to be selected for their housing.
Beginning in February a year after the tree died the first carpenter started crafting the first hole. By April there were two holes. The first hole became the residence for three adults. I suppose the second was a spare bedroom for visitors, or perhaps a chill space… At night I could hear them rustling around, beak to jowl in their small digs, occasionally murmuring to each other. By mid-May it was clear that a few more birds had arrived – from within the hole, evident by the shrill and urgent voices of the begging babies. This of course was a cause to celebrate, and one afternoon shortly thereafter the tree was bumpin’ with woodpeckers – maybe ten individuals – aunties and uncles flapping their wings, yacking it up and generally making a ruckus to welcome three more babies into their troop.
Now bird babies are like people babies in that they certainly make sounds, but they can’t necessarily make sense. So after the initial cooing and burble-boo stage, the parents and babies want to speak with each other. In studying how baby birds learn their complex songs, researchers found that adult birds would go through a period of singing their characteristic songs to the babies really slowly – drawn out in an exaggerated “sing-song” voice, accentuating the vowels and syllables. Bird linguists called this speaking style “motherese.” This term was quickly adapted by human linguists to describe speaking behavior of human adults around babies. The theory is that babies kick out some pheromone that modifies adult behavior, bringing out fantasy and playfulness and encouraging the motherese behavior that would sound silly in any other setting. Those kids need to learn how to speak from us adults; their offering of unconditional playfulness is a great exchange. You’ve got to love them kids.
Aho,
Michael Stocker