The Language of Birds

As I was standing on my balcony chain smoking clove cigarettes and yelling at the pigeons a thought came to me. When cartoons and movies are aired, it is generally assumed that any and all animals can automatically speak the language of whatever country it happens to be shown in. In addition to that, it is generally acknowledged that our pets and farm animals at least understand, if not speak, the same language we do. Living proof of this can be found in a dog who belongs to my boyfriend's aunt. This dog is rather friendly, sometimes too friendly, and no matter how many times I tell it to go lie down and stop bothering me in English it won't listen, but the minute I say the same thing in German, off it goes to the corner to do as I asked. I suppose this isn't especially extraordinary, but it got me thinking about birds, specifically migratory ones. The arctic tern migrates every year 12,000 miles from its breeding grounds along the Arctic circle to its wintering grounds on the edge of the continent of Antarctica. The tern is a circumpolar species, meaning that it lives along every edge of both the Arctic and Antarctic circles.

The Arctic Tern (well actually 2 Arctic Terns)

So what language do they speak? Do they learn every language of every country the live and/or stop in? If this is the case, they have to learn not only English and Spanish, but Russian, Swedish, Finnish, Norwegian, French, German, Japanese, Chinese and a plethora of African and Inuit dialects. Or are they, as I assume, more like rude American tourists spreading across the globe with snot-nosed children and luggage packed to the breaking point in tow, demanding that every man, woman, child, and arctic tern they meet accommodate their ignorance.

These are the things I think about because I have no job and, therefore, more time than sense.