Quotes from Jon Young

If we learn to read the birds-and their behaviors and vocalizations-through them, we can read the world at large... if we replace collision with connection, learn to read these details, feel at home, relax, and are respectful--ultimately the birds will yield to us the first rite of passage: a close encounter with an animal otherwise wary of our presence.

As awareness grows, appreciation grows too. As appreciation grows, so does empathy.

When I was growing up under Tom's (Tom Brown, the Tracker) watchful gaze, I often wondered why he seemed so distant and quiet so much of the time. This was why. He was stilling the chatter, quieting his mind, connecting and listening: practicing the routine of invisibility.

The natural world is a culture of vigilance based on carefully tended relationships and connections, maintained through recognition, mutual respect, and "jungle etiquette" that in the end preserves the baseline and conserves energy.

if you learn to listen to the silence, you'll hear more of everything else.

Eons ago, Homo sapiens were just as alert and aware as all other creatures, and for the same reason. They needed to be. Now we don't need to be - or do we, but just don't understand this anymore? Our sensory equipment and brains are still designed for this awareness. These instincts are still in each of us, just buried, maybe deeply buried. Connecting with bird language begins the process of unearthing them.

In a culture in which "connection" usually refers to the strength of the cell phone signal, quieting the mind - even just sitting alone in the backyard, much less in the forest - can be a difficult rite of passage.

when we "lose our mind" and "come to our senses" in the fullest possible way, the chattering, texting, e-mailing, twittering mind will eventually quiet down and almost silence itself. This is a sacred and connected silence...It's like a deep, still pond reflecting the stars of the night sky. I believe this is the baseline for human consciousness, and I'm convinced that the birds are the best mentors in the natural world for bringing us to it.

Listening to Spanish, Italian, or German opera, you, like me, may have no idea what the words of a particular aria mean, but you don't need this knowledge to understand the feeling they convey. You can tell if it's a song of pleasure, jubilation, triumph, or tragedy.

Just a few years ago, a graduate student at the University of California, Davis's Department of Ecology and Evolution determined that many species of birds, including juncos, finches, and warblers, have ventriloquial abilities. (Her research focused on a yellow-rumped warbler and a stuffed owl.) Other studies followed, all demonstrating that birds can adjust their "acoustic directionality" in order to beam their alarm calls in chosen directions.

the Pacific Wren feeds on insects and spiders, which are especially good sources of energy. To sing, it takes a deep breath --where does it put all that air? - and then lets loose for up to ten seconds without pausing...And this song is loud. The wrens put out the most volume per ounce of any bird that I know, with the Carolina Wren the loudest of them all.

it is never just the robins communicating with the other robins, the song sparrows with the other song sparrows, the juncos with the other juncos. In the yard and in the trees, it's everyone communicating with (because they are eavesdropping on) everyone else—spring, summer, fall, and winter: ripples within ripples, a vast web with many seams and confusions; concentric rings bouncing off concentric rings; subtle sounds, subtle scents, subtle movements.

Bird language is about acquiring some "jungle etiquette," and the sit spot is where this starts to happen...Instead of flushing out the wrens and chickadees and robins and sparrows with a major bird plow, Jack learned to sit quietly and watch, listen, learn and connect.