"Coco is Dead" - The Language of a Bird

A Eurasian collared dove.

"That all my life I have listened to the calls

of mourning doves, have heard them hidden far back

under the eaves, or perched among sycamore branches—

their five still notes sometimes lost in the wind—

and not known how to answer: this I confess,

lying here now, on a summer morning, in a dark room

no less lit by the sound of their soft calling..."

- From the poem Mourning Doves by American poet, Jared Carter,

found along with the quote which follows (below), on this Mythic Living page.

"The mourning dove of North America is, as its name suggests, sometimes connected to the notion of the soul’s passing from this life to the next.  Thus, the appearance of the bird has been associated with visitation from the “other side”.  This is not a new metaphor, nor is it only North American. It is usually understood to be a reassuring representation that life goes on, albeit separated from the still-living."

(If there's one thing I've learned about Camus during the course of our dance is that the man is infectious. He makes a writer want - actually need - to write. So, to all of you who write - not necessarily to make a living, but because you need to bring some kind of order and meaning to your life - when blocked, read Camus. There's something to be said for a writer who - without saying so - encourages you to just open up and spit it out.

That being said, I think I can safely report: I've come back to this blog for a bit, and my heart seems to be in it. So, that's good. As to why I suddenly need to blog so much  - and I do not really consciously know - well, it's a slightly unsettling question... which need not be addressed presently. We'll just run with it.

Today's story is about a bird. A bird who can, potentially, talk. A bird who is hunted... perhaps haunted. A familiar bird to many humans as it has emigrated to numerous locations across the globe. It is a refugee, and, this is why it is, perhaps, more unbound than other species of birds. It might also be more intelligent than some of them... it has, after all, learned to adapt to many different countries and has seen many nationalities and races of people. It has heard snatches of human conversation in many diverse languages - gathering them into its memory banks - by, what we can assume to be, a brain's osmotic processes - as it sat quietly, sometimes invisibly, on its high perch overlooking its adopted land.

But, I wasn't aware of any of that when this story first began... a true story, regardless of my interpretation.

Above, inset right, the Watcher, a dove parked outside my bedroom window... as it often is every day.)

***

The star(s)s of my story - the Eurasian collared dove, is related to the mourning dove, unique birds when you think about it. On the eastern coast of the US the mourning dove (inset left & inset right below) is such a common sight and its song is so instantly identifiable, one never fully grasps it's oddness. It is considered a songbird but it's song is short, wistful and slightly melancholy, often described as "a lament". Think: graveyards, willow trees and grey gardens... (Listen to it here.)

But, NM is a different sort of place. It is not near the ocean - the land is trapped... and its ghosts know it. The birds, however, do not. Many of them migrate. Even seagulls, ocean birds who will find no large bodies of water here, fly into NM's dry interior. There is, no doubt, a scientific explanation for this, but, I'd rather imagine the seagulls can sense the ancient oceans which once flowed here thousands of years ago, and are following deeply embedded biological markers in the landscape and atmosphere.

Then again, there is something about birds which demands we endow them with magical powers... whether they possess them or not. However, we must consider: their bodies are flying vehicles. Can't touch that.

Anyway, the story begins in a vague sort of way... that is I began hearing some mysterious bird every morning when I woke up. It had a strange vocalization; not a song really. In an eerie way, it seemed to be saying something. Now, I could go into the general setting in which I live, but, for the sake of economy, I'll skip all that. The fact is, that I heard a bird calling outside of my window every day... and sometimes on the launchpad (my dedicated smoking room). And, it's "song" began to bother me. Abrasive, the bird's vocalizations were not patterns of musical notes. They uncannily resembled human speech, but I couldn't make it out.

Then, one day, it suddenly came to me that I could understand what the bird seemed to be saying. I cannot identify what had changed enabling this to happen. It just did. In fact, it seemed obvious; in it's weird, hollow, bird-voice - which seemed to originate somewhere in its belly - it seemed to be repeating the same phrase over and over again:

 "Coco is dead."

During this same period I had a weird bird encounter. What looked like a mourning dove flew onto the fence surrounding the launchpad (see: Dancing with the Ghost...). It startled me because it came quite close to my face, peering at me with one large dark eye. Then it lifted off and flew away. For anyone familiar with mourning doves, this was unusual; they're timid birds. But, I noticed the band around its neck, and wondered if it might be a slightly different variety of dove, maybe an exclusively southwestern variety. At this stage of the game, I didn't know.

Meanwhile, my bird with its grave announcement had somewhat changed its message. In fact, it was changing its message every other day. I now alternately heard: "Coco is dead," "Coco escaped," "Coco has escaped," and one day, "Coco is ALIVE! Sometimes different names replaced "Coco." There were three different names but I wrote down (and remember) only 2 of them: Yahghol and Jockarelle. (I've spelled them the way they sounded and  would be pronounced - in English - with the accent on the first syllable.) I think it was at this point that I finally took my experience more seriously. I was beginning to imagine I was listening to an official avian town crier...

So, I did the research. I discovered my "town crier" was a Eurasian collared dove like the pair above. And, I found something more. In the Wiki entry for mourning dove, it is stated:

"It is one of the most abundant and widespread of all North American birds

and a popular gamebird, with more than 20 million birds (up to 70 million in some years) shot annually in the U.S., both for sport and meat."

Not to mention what I found on this page: 

"HUNTING SEASONS OPEN FOR DOVES, GROUSE, SQUIRRELS,

BAND-TAILED PIGEONS;

PELLET GUNS APPROVED FOR COLLARED DOVES, GROUSE, SQUIRRELS

Beginning this year, .177 caliber or larger pellet guns are among the legal sporting arms for Eurasian collared doves, dusky grouse and squirrels. The State Game Commission approved the change Aug. 28 to give hunters more opportunities to bag those species, partly due to the ongoing shortage of .22-caliber ammunition."

And I'm afraid the Eurasian collared dove fares even worse; in some states it's considered an invasive species.

But the story - which, at that point in time, I was already beginning to write in my mind... Disneyland, here I come - still had a ways to go before it became fit for Family Entertainment.

And, as my fingers plodded across the keyboard, I found more fodder for a really riveting screenplay involving tragic, discriminated-against, refugee birds slaughtered in the millions... but (in my story) discovered by a child who (magically) overhears them conversing, and, after rousing some scientists to begin studying their unique vocalizations, initiates a moratorium on the systematic murder of their species, and effectively enlightens the world. At which point a rainbow comes out, doves are flying in peace-sign formation, and flowers are nodding their heads in agreement.

That story.*

But, there was only one problem with my imaginary screenplay. Everything after the "child's" discovery was sheer fantasy and likely to remain so.

***

A mourning dove and (possibly) its dead companion. 2021, James Yule. (Found here, along
with the quote below.)

"From across the road, Yule could see now that one of the birds was dead. Likely, struck by a car within the last 15 minutes. The live bird was nudging the dead one with its beak, as if trying to render it conscious or push its body over off the road. 

Passing vehicles stirred the bird who skirted off to safety before promptly returning with its eyes fixed on its dead mate. Yule watched as it rustled its feathers and seemed to jump on the dead bird’s body before lowering its head to nudge it again.

“It was like he was trying to shake an unconscious person to wake them up,” Yule said. “It was as if he had no idea what was happening. No conception of death.”

- Regarding the sad photo directly above, without knowing the particulars, we can at least assume that the mourning dove above is acknowledging the death of a member of its species. I also think it's safe to assume that all animals recognize death, although their actual understanding of death may differ from ours. Apparently, the photograph went viral, most people interpreting it as a tragic love story. What disturbed me the most, however, was that there were others who "debated whether or not the mourning dove had the capacity for feeling." I figure they were probably hunters in denial.

A mourning dove decoy.

***

(7/20/23)

Sorry for the delay, but I've been trying get a few audio files embedded in this blog post so you, the reader, will have some idea of what I'm talking about. I've recorded some of my own files in video format - via my cell-phone - but these are not excellent examples. Especially as digital recordings can't seem to replicate all pertinent information (re: tonality). All bird song seems to lose something in the recording... but, this is especially true in the case of the Eurasian Collared dove. Perhaps, we're not discussing music as much as speech. I can't say.

(Image, inset right, was sourced here.)

But, you can make your own judgement by listening to some of the hundreds of recordings (from a number of countries) starting here on the Xeno-Canto website (there are numerous pages). I may attempt to embed a few, but, thus far, I note the samplings sound better on the site. Here's one file - courtesy of Belgian birdwatcher, Alain Malengreau, and another file by his fellow Belgian, Valentijn Hermans - which sound close to what I've been hearing, but, this bird's vocalization is difficult to record for a number of reasons. One reason is that there are several acoustical oddities and/or artifacts involved... some odd variables in the bird's voice pattern which enables the listener to hear several differing, almost "encrypted" sounds. But, I'll try to describe this later.

For now, you will be listening specifically for the repeated phrase which sounds like: "Coco is dead." The bird does have at least 2 other vocalizations as well, but these aren't the ones referred to in this post. Interestingly, while at the Xeno-Canto - a marvelous site - you will find the "Coco" phrase does not sound exactly the same across the world... nor even in the same country. In any case, listen to the very end of each file. Try to compare them by "emotional" content as well. Does the bird sound very sad, or anxiously urgent?

At the same time, "Coco is dead," is a phrase in English. So, this fact may lead us to the conclusion that this article is total nonsense! But, I am committed ** to finishing this article, so I will persevere.

I would also like to include a few more file links in this section. For instance, we have a longer file from Paul Driver in the UK. In my ears, the bird sounds frantic. Here's a file from the Netherlands, uploaded by Susanne Kuijpers. The bird sounds like its on its last gasp. Olivier Swift from France has this file (very clear). And, finally, from Alladin in Romania we have this file.

"The generic name is from the Ancient Greek streptos meaning "collar" and peleia meaning "dove"; the specific epithet is Greek for "eighteen". The number comes from a Greek myth. A maid who worked hard for little money was unhappy that she was only paid 18 coins a year and begged the gods to let the world know how little she was rewarded by her mistress. Thereupon Zeus created this dove that has called out "Deca-octo" ever since..."

"The song is a goo-GOO-goo. The Eurasian collared dove also makes a harsh loud screeching call lasting about two seconds, particularly in flight just before landing. A rough way to describe the screeching sound is a hah-hah."

-  Via 2 quotes from the Wiki entry for Eurasian collared dove. I have seen several interpretations of this bird's vocalizations. None of them seem to resemble what I'm hearing. Nor the "a cooing “woop-WOOO!-woop” found here.

***

Eurasian Collared dove found here.

7/21/23

This just found... from the same Wiki entry:

"In 1974, fewer than 50 Eurasian collared doves escaped captivity in Nassau, New Providence, Bahamas. From the Bahamas, the species spread to Florida, and is now found in nearly every state in the U.S., as well as in Mexico... As of 2012, few negative impacts have been demonstrated in Florida, where the species is most prolific. However, the species is known as an aggressive competitor and there is concern that as populations continue to grow, native birds will be out-competed by the invaders. One study, however, found that Eurasian collared doves are not more aggressive or competitive than native mourning doves, despite similar dietary preferences."

"While the spread of disease to native species has not been recorded in a study, Eurasian collared doves are known carriers of the parasite Trichomonas gallinae and pigeon paramyxovirus type 1. Both Trichomonas gallinae and pigeon paramyxovirus type 1 can spread to native birds via commingling at feeders and by consumption of doves by predators."

- Two more quotes from the Wiki entry. Apparently, the species in the US originated from the Bahamas and seem, for the most part harmless. However, being known carriers of any viral or parasitic disease does not work in their favor. Moreover, if we include them amongst the game birds, we can only hope no one is actually eating the creatures. In any case, far from the Disney script I originally envisioned, this could be the fodder for another grisly Pandemic tale.

***

On the other hand, we have the sweeter story below about a collared dove named Trigger who was adopted by a human family as a fledgling. And, from it, we can deduce that collared doves are responsive to humans, are playful, are quite intelligent... and have a dove's homing instinct.

Unfortunately, the bird it quite silent in the video. As it's mother died when it was young, I wonder if it will learn its own language... or if it will eventually pick up a few human words.

While I realize it is unlikely the collared doves are actually saying words in English, their vocalizations do bear some study... and not merely for their resemblance to human speech, but because of their unusual nature. What I haven't mentioned previously about the variations I also heard is that, very often, depending upon when and how you hear the "Coco is dead" line, it can also be heard in the ways I mentioned earlier - and I discovered this in my own audio files - that is, sometimes the same call sounds like "Coco escaped" or "Coco has escaped" (note the extra syllable) and sometimes the name Coco can be interpreted as the longer name, Jockanelle, or some other name. I've also heard "Coco is alive!" which should be a separate set of sounds altogether. How is this possible? (See new video in the following section.)

Language of the Birds, indeed.

 

Lastly, there is the matter of any dove, generally a songbird, degraded into a game-bird - i.e., target practice - at least here in America. Regardless how of you look at it - via the information presented - it seems like a bad, if not barbaric idea.

And there's more, but, in the interests of economy, I'm afraid I will have to continue Coco's story in another post... one in which wildlife, in general, can be addressed. Because, while we can hear what it sounds like the bird is saying - which, you must admit is in keeping with its reputation and the folklore surrounding doves in general, and mourning doves in particular - the reality is the bird is speaking in its own alien language... in very complex way.

That being said, I notice the Watcher has been missing the past couple of days. Maybe my job - whatever it is - is done.

***

7/22/23

The Watcher was back this morning. I finally heard it make a sound, and by this sound, I know it's a mourning dove. I think it sits nearby because I go outdoors more than the other tenants in the building and... well, it's curious.

Meanwhile, I've since received some comments from my friend BG Dodson, that indicate my interpretation of collared dove's lingo is not necessarily the only interpretation possible. However, I did find a video which might clarify why it is that some birds can talk (posted below). (Surprise - birds have both a larynx and a syrinx!)

I've also found a whole slew of talking parrot and cockatoo videos for those who, like me, enjoy this sort of thing: First up, a cockatoo story about a bird who calls all women "Barbara." Following this, we have an African grey named Petra and another named Gizmo. Here's another parrot story about a therapeutic parrot named Vandal, and lastly, a BBC video about 2 other genius birds.

Enjoy!

(PS  Before I forget... Note to BG: here's the first of a charming series of videos about Fable, the talking Raven.)

***

Afterword

7/23/23

Today, I finally saw at least one of the neighborhood "town criers" for the first time. Previously, I've only heard its call. Apparently, he's been perched at the top of a tall tree overlooking the launchpad. Today's call: "Coco had escape." (sic) I then listened to all of my video/audio files and they all sounded similarly (but, with the "ed" added), except for one which did sound like (the expected) "Coco is dead." In any case, I've decided my files are totally lacking in quality and I'm not going to even attempt to upload them.

But, that's not why I'm writing.

The Watcher was out there again today, too, and I have learned it is a female mourning dove. I discovered this because the somewhat larger and greyer collared dove (which I'm assuming is male) - with its familiar squawk - flew up to her, bowed several times... and then mounted her! An avian interracial love story... who knew?

I'd heard of the possible existence of collared/mourning dove hybrids (not to be confused with this African dove) They may be more common than is currently known... which is why the two varieties of doves are often confused.

As a matter of fact, the bird who visited me on the patio - who may be my Watcher as well - had a band around her neck and (reddish eyes), but her rosier coloring, slenderness, and longer beak was that of a mourning dove.

Addendum

7/26/23

As of today, there appears to be a new Watcher positioned in front of my bedroom window (from where the photographic image above was taken).

I'm afraid Watcher #1, a female mourning dove introduced at the beginning of the post, was supplanted from her customary perch by the male collared dove who seduced her (re: the Afterword)!

I'll try not to read anything into this... but, I must say, his presence is somehow more compelling.

(Note: after 2 weeks of 100+ degree temperatures, it is presently raining.) :-)

________________________________________

*   Alternate ending: the doves are spiraling off into the sunset to the strains of Michael Blake's Phi tune.

** This bird will haunt me till I do.

"It is always easy to be logical. It is almost impossible to be logical to the bitter end."

- Albert Camus, from The Myth of Sisyphus

There is a supplementary dove post which follows this one:

For the Birds: "Coco," Martha, Chér Ami, GI Joe, Irish Paddy & all the unsung others...