Ecology in The Books Store

On September 6, 2007, an African Grey parrot named Alex died prematurely at age thirty-one. His last words to his owner, Irene Pepperberg, were "You be good. I love you."

What would normally be a quiet, very private event was, in Alex's case, headline news. Over the thirty years they had worked together, Alex and Irene had become famous—two pioneers who opened an unprecedented window into the hidden yet vast world of animal minds. Alex's brain was the size of a shelled walnut, and when Irene and Alex first met, birds were not believed to possess any potential for language, consciousness, or anything remotely comparable to human intelligence. Yet, over the years, Alex proved many things. He could add. He could sound out words. He understood concepts like bigger, smaller, more, fewer, and none. He was capable of thought and intention. Together, Alex and Irene uncovered a startling reality: We live in a world populated by thinking, conscious creatures.

The fame that resulted was extraordinary. Yet there was a side to their relationship that never made the papers. They were emotionally connected to one another. They shared a deep bond far beyond science. Alex missed Irene when she was away. He was jealous when she paid attention to other parrots, or even people. He liked to show her who was boss. He loved to dance. He sometimes became bored by the repetition of his tests, and played jokes on her. Sometimes they sniped at each other. Yet nearly every day, they each said, "I love you."

Alex and Irene stayed together through thick and thin—despite sneers from experts, extraordinary financial sacrifices, and a nomadic existence from one univer­sity to another. The story of their thirty-year adventure is equally a landmark of scientific achievement and of an unforgettable human-animal bond.

With both a tender heart and a scientist's eye, O'Brien studied Wesley's strange habits intensively and first-hand -- and provided a mice-only diet that required her to buy the rodents in bulk (28,000 over the owl's lifetime). As Wesley grew, she snapped photos of him at every stage like any proud parent, recording his life from a helpless ball of fuzz to a playful, clumsy adolescent to a gorgeous, gold-and-white, macho adult owl with a heart-shaped face and an outsize personality that belied his 18-inch stature. Stacey and Wesley's bond deepened as she discovered Wesley's individual personality, subtle emotions, and playful nature that could also turn fiercely loyal and protective -- though she could have done without Wesley's driving away her would-be human suitors!

O'Brien also brings us inside the prestigious research community, a kind of scientific Hogwarts where resident owls sometimes flew freely from office to office and eccentric, brilliant scientists were extraordinarily committed to studying and helping animals; all of them were changed by the animal they loved. As O'Brien gets close to Wesley, she makes important discoveries about owl behavior, intelligence, and communication, coining the term "The Way of the Owl" to describe his inclinations: he did not tolerate lies, held her to her promises, and provided unconditional love, though he was not beyond an occasional sulk. When O'Brien develops her own life-threatening illness, the biologist who saved the life of a helpless baby bird is herself rescued from death by the insistent love and courage of this wild animal.

"Pop-up books aren't just for kids anymore! This multimedia experience transports you to seven natural habitats in North America and immerses you in the birds and their songs. --Greg Butcher, director of bird conservation, National Audubon Society

"Birdscapes is a delight for the eyes and the ears--a tour of North America's bird-rich ecosystems, rendered as seven lavishly detailed, three-dimensional landscapes, and brimming with choruses of authentic bird songs and calls." --Scott Weidensaul, author of Living on the Wind and Of a Feather

An Interview with Miyoko Chu, Director of Communications at the Cornell Lab of Ornithology

Q: When did you first become interested in birds?

A: When I was 11, my father and I rescued some pigeons from a poultry truck in San Francisco's Chinatown. I spent a lot of time in the backyard coop, watching the pigeons as they courted and raised their young. It was amazing to realize all this drama was playing out with wild birds everywhere, too, and to have the opportunity to study it.

Q: What's your favorite bird song and why?

A: My favorite song is that of the Scott’s Oriole, featured in the desert scene of Birdscapes. Hearing that clear, bubbling melody in the desert is an unforgettable experience.

Q: What was the best thing about working on Birdscapes?

A: It was exciting to go from the ideas and bird lists for each soundscape to seeing and hearing this three-dimensional product as it emerged from the minds of the artists, editors, and sound engineers. It was incredible to see the artists' sketches transform into complex and ingenious pop-up scenes, and to experience how precise recordings for each bird were blended to evoke the soundscape.

Q: Have you visited all of the seven different bird habitats featured in Birdscapes?

A: Of the seven habitats, I'm most familiar with the desert, where I studied birds during 1995-2000, and the eastern deciduous forest, which is right outside my office window. I have visited the Great Plains and Pacific evergreen forests. I have not been to the Arctic, a southern swamp, or a seabird colony. In writing those scenes, I benefited from the insights of my colleague Gerrit Vyn, the Cornell Lab of Ornithology’s audio production engineer, who selected the recordings, including some that he had recorded on recent expeditions to these habitats.

Q: Which habitat in Birdscapes did you enjoy writing about the most and why?

A: Actually, there were two that I enjoyed the most--for completely opposite reasons! I loved writing about the desert because I had spent so much time there, and remembered the sights and sounds so vividly. And it was great fun to write about the seabird colony because that was something I had never experienced before—and I was completely surprised by what I learned. Whether an individual seabird's voice or thousands, the sounds are awe-inspiring, and the birds have such an interesting lifestyle as they all cram on to a bit of rock for the breeding season.

Q: Are you a daily birder or a weekend birder?

A: I'm an opportunistic birder! I'm always watching and listening for birds around my house and neighborhood. But in between work and spending time with my family, my focused birding these days happens irregularly, on the spur of the moment. My office at the Cornell Lab of Ornithology overlooks Sapsucker Woods, so I sometimes slip outside to look for birds after getting an email alert about a good migration day, or when I notice people outside my window pointing up at the trees.

Q: Do you have any suggestions for beginning birders?

A: Invest in a pair of binoculars and practice becoming comfortable with them. It will open up a whole new world, enabling you to see many more birds than you may have even realized were around you before. Spend time getting to know the different kinds of birds you see, the reasons for their behaviors, and the many kinds of sounds they use throughout the year.

Excerpts from Birdscapes

Click on each image below to see a larger view of the page.

More to Explore

Bird Songs: 250 North American Birds in Song

Bird Songs From Around the World

The Backyard Birdsong Guide: Eastern and Central North America

The Backyard Birdsong Guide: Western North America

Shreve threw away her cell phone and took to the rules of the land, adjusting to a lifestyle that was a near antithesis to that of the urban jungle. Time is of a different essence, nature is both livelihood and enemy, deer and coyote mark the dawn and dusk. After she met a local cowboy by chance on the side of the road, first a friendship and then a romance blossomed between them.

When Shreve was unexpectedly presented with a ten-day-old coyote pup whose parents had been shot for killing sheep, she had a choice to make. Despite her reservations and the terror of her tomcat Eli, Shreve decided to do the unthinkable -- to raise the coyote pup she came to call Charlie in her 12 12-foot log cabin.