Hey Sweetie
How a birdsong from my childhood showed me how little I actually know.
When I was a little thing, walking to elementary school was the only part of the morning that I enjoyed (I’ve never been one for being active before, say, noon). I remember breathing deeply the chill spring air, tasting the sun on the morning mists. There was always a bird singing nearby, as if singing to me specifically: a sweet, two-note whistle carried from the tree boughs overhead. In my imaginary world, this bird was telling me it loved me, that we were friends, that it had so much it wanted to say to me, if only my human ears could understand.
Nobody could answer me when I asked what bird it was. The grown-ups barely seemed to recognize that a bird was singing; my fellow schoolyard children had more interesting things to do.
I grew up, as children often do. For many years, I forgot about the bird entirely. Last spring, in 2024, I heard that sweet, two-note whistle again, and was momentarily a young child on their way to elementary school. The moment passed; I was a grown-up once more.
It’s the song of a black-capped chickadee, I discovered early this year. At 30, I finally had an answer to who was singing their heart to me at age 6. We’re more familiar with the high chick-a-dee-dee-dee sound they make, which is their warning call. But the two-note hey-sweetie song is their mating call. It says that they, too, are looking for someone to tell them they love them.
Not that they’re interested in humans, but I still say, “I love you, too” whenever I hear them call. Just in case.
As you may know, I started an internship this month studying endangered butterfly species. In my conversations these last couple of weeks, I’ve discovered how large the gap of knowledge is between the layperson and the world we inhabit.
My dad didn’t know that butterflies and wasps serve a purpose as pollinators.
Another intern realized she didn’t know what an American Robin sounded like (they’re the ones singing cheer-up-cheerio outside my window right now).
My roommate didn’t know that many wildlife rescue and rehabilitation organizations run on the backs of retirees volunteering their spare time; since many folks can’t afford to retire anymore, wildlife rescues are dwindling.
My ornithology professor of last quarter had no idea that over 97% of the original Pacific grassland prairies have disappeared due to agriculture, development, and forest encroachment.
And why would they? Until this year, I didn’t know any of that, either. I didn’t even know the name of the bird singing my favorite song.
One of my favorite words lately has been recognize: to know again. To recognize the world around you is to know it intimately, by heart.
I don’t remember how I came to the understanding that to love something, you have to learn about it, and the reverse is true as well. It was an idea that just sort of… appeared one day, and it hasn’t let me go since. But I see this concept daily in the conservation workers and managers around me. The values they carry speak to the love they have of this land, that they recognize a piece of themselves here.
We so often are swamped by the news of what other humans are doing that we forget to learn about the world around us. So the urgency to understand, know about, and love the natural world often feels pale in comparison.
But it is urgent. It is crucial. It is up to me to share what I know. It is up to you to share what you know. It is up to us to take action.
If you do nothing else today, I hope you listen to the birds, even if you don’t know who is singing. I hope you tell them you love them, too.
<3 <3 <3
It is, indeed, up to us. Thanks for the gentle reminder 💓