No, no… You thought this was a post about “those” birds and bees!
The idea of the birds and the bees came about as I looked up while
having a cup of coffee at my workplace’s garden.
I spotted a beehive.
Next to it was a Common Myna on a tree branch guarding its nest.
Both were doing what they do, living side-by-side and coexisting.
It brought to mind a few lines in Samuel Coleridge’s sonnet “Work
Without Hope,” how fascinating it is to observe nature at work and to set up a
contrast between the busy natural world and us.
Coleridge wrote in 1825:
All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair —
The bees are stirring — birds are on the wing…
And I, the while, the sole unbusy thing,
Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing…
Work without Hope draws nectar in a sieve,
And Hope without an object cannot live.
For without hope, there can never be success.
Traditionally, the birds and the bees is a metaphorical story
sometimes told to children in an attempt to explain the mechanics and good
consequences of sexual intercourse through reference to easily observed natural
events.
This was satirized in The Simpsons cartoon show, in the episode Homer
vs. Patty and Selma that
was first broadcast in February 1995 (S6, Ep. 17). The episode includes a scene featuring 10-year-old
Bart Simpson in happy mood:
Bart: What a
day, eh, Milhouse? The sun is out, birds are singing, bees are trying to have
sex with them -- as is my understanding...
Oddly for such a common saying, the origin of this phrase is
uncertain. Coleridge’s poem is most often cited as making the link between
birds and bees and human sexuality.
So, who coined and first used “the
birds and the bees” as the generic name for euphemistic sex education?Do you
know?
But back to my cup of coffee…
 |
| The Common Myna |
I know firsthand how territorial it is. I’ve been attacked by it
several times on my morning run when passing under a tree where it was nesting.
The one at work also dives down as I pass, supposedly protecting its nest too.
It is not a pretty bird. It is almost violent and doesn’t sing all
that well, but it is said to be an important motif in Indian culture and
appears both in Sanskrit and Prakrit literature.
The Common Myna’s calls include croaks, squawks,
chirps, clicks and whistles, and the bird often fluffs its feathers and bobs
its head in “singing.” It screeches warnings to its mate or other birds in
cases of predators in proximity or when it is about to take off flying.
Common Mynas are believed to pair for life. They breed
through much of the year depending on the location. It is a hollow-nesting
species in trees or artificially on buildings, in recessed windowsills or low
eaves.
The pair I was observing has nested in a recessed vent in
the wall of the villa.
The range of the Common Myna is increasing at such a rapid rate
that in 2000 the IUCN Species Survival Commission declared
it one of the world's most invasive species and one of only three birds (the other two being the Red-vented bulbul and European Starling) in the
top 100 species that pose an impact to biodiversity, agriculture and human
interests. Its aggressive behavior is considered to contribute to its success as
an invasive species.
As I finished my coffee while watching
the Mynas having their afternoon bath, I didn’t like them any better, but I had
to admire their resourcefulness, tolerance and coexistence with the bees.
It was a good lesson for the day.
