Bird Language: Quality Time
Triangle Island is a small island off the coast of British Columbia, measuring about 290 acres[1]. Triangle Island is uninhabited by people save for a small research cabin and is protected under Environment and Climate Change Canada due to its large population of seabirds and marine mammals. The island is home to a large breeding ground for over a dozen species of seabirds, including Tufted Puffins, a variety of Auklets, and Common Murres[2]. The island is also home to the largest colony of Sea Lions, which also use the island for breeding and resting. This large group of marine mammals and waterfowl is often referred to as a rookery[3], and the rookery on Triangle Island is one of the biggest and most important for scientific research and the study of global warming effects.
I learned about Triangle Island while doing research for my thesis in 2023 and have been obsessed with it ever since. The island is a beautiful place, lush and green, surrounded by dark blue ocean. The island is mostly untouched, save for that research cabin, a gorgeous paradise for its colony of birds. I could not overstate its charm. Here is this perfect Eden, this place for birds to nest and enjoy each other, not just with their own kind, but with their neighbors who fly the open ocean or swim in its depths. Triangle Island feels like a fantasy world and were it not for the many pictures of the island, I would find it difficult to believe it exists[4].
I am interested in flocking, the way that birds live and move together. A murder of Crows, a flamboyance of Flamingos, a banditry of Chickadees, groups of birds move like they are one individual, one well-oiled machine. Imagine the perfect V of Canadian Geese migrating across the sky, the way they move like one being, carefully maneuvering through the skyway, or when the Swallows flutter through the airspace like gnats darting through the humid, summer air, never colliding even as they move in quick dips and dives, or even when a startled flock of Pigeons all take flight at the exact same moment, moving like one, feathery ball of energy. The bond between a flock is nothing short of divine, an innate understanding of one another and the needs of the group. A love like that is hard to imagine, but it is all around us, in the way that we understand a friend’s raised eyebrow without having to speak, in the way that without words we move around obstacles while walking together, in the way that we lock eyes across the table and suddenly burst into laughter. We recognize each other, we move together, a friendship becomes its own singular creation, two or more people blending together.
But the bonds between birds do not always stop at one species; birds often create colonies, a group containing multiple species of birds[5]. In Seattle, I often see the American Robins eating their morning worms alongside the Black-Capped Chickadees, or a flashy group of Pigeons and Starlings moving through downtown, picking at discarded food, and while their relationship may be more contentious, I often see small gatherings of Seagulls and Crows teasing and picking at each other in vacant lots, acting like a group of rambunctious teens.
But, of course, my favorite example is Triangle Island, that stunning colony of seabirds. On the island, all differences are set aside, the land is a communal nesting and breeding ground. The birds talk to each other in their own ways, eat together, rest together, fly together. Cormorants and Auklets, Murres and Puffins, even the Sea Lions, create a huge family on the island. It is places like Triangle Island where I see myself reflected back in the birds. I see my family, my friends. I see the community of people around me. I see the common places where we all meet, like coffee shops and libraries, parks and hiking trails. I see the restaurants where we eat food together, the public pools where we play together, the beaches where we rest together. Perhaps it is idealistic of me, but I hope that one day we might all come together the way that the rookery on Triangle Island does.
I ask that you consider your neighbor, your class, your friends, your family. Think about the places where you come together—the physical places. Where is your Triangle Island? Is it the coffee shop downtown, is it the living room rug, is it a particularly comfortable bench? Where are your special places where you and your people come together to sit in comfortable silence, to eat together, to live together? Perhaps consider even the virtual space, the zoom calls, the facetimes, the phone calls, and text messages. How do you express your gratitude, not only for the space, but for the energy it creates between you and your loved ones? Write a love letter to the couch you and your friend sit on to share your secrets, whisper a sweet nothing to the phone you use to text your most beloved people, say your thanks to your favorite Italian restaurant, where your friends celebrate all of your finest achievements. Remember that love is something that is created between two people, between the layers of the self, that love is a verb as much as it is a noun.
[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triangle_Island
[2] https://www.cbc.ca/news2/interactives/sh/lBuyhpcqVr/forbidden-island/
[3] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rookery
[4] https://canadiangeographic.ca/articles/remote-paradise-the-wonder-of-b-c-s-triangle-island/