A huge world: book review

Read this book. Get it from the library, buy it or borrow it, but do what you can to read it. I say . . . you might have a stack of books next to your bed (guilty) and bookcases crammed beyond capacity (guilty), and not want to hear about YET ANOTHER book to read (depending on the day). But. Honest. He has been described as a “. . . tremendous breath of fresh air . . . ” (Rebecca Sklot, The Immortal Life of Henrieta Lacks), and who doesn’t need it right now?

This is which author Susan Orleans said about Ed Yong and A huge world“He is an extraordinary reporter and a writer of such grace that this work seems effortless. It is a journal of discovery and animal magic. . .”. I did not see how I could improve on his remarks, and I add my admiration to his. I love this book, and because most of you are animal lovers, I think you are too. A huge world is about reality, and how there is no such thing. At least, there is not a single and unique reality, because each of us, living within the limits of our sensory systems, can only perceive a tiny slice of it.

It is understandable that we humans have assumed for centuries that what we can perceive is all there is to see, hear, smell and touch. I would expect, if we could ask them, that an individual of each species would make the same assumption. But it is simply wrong, stupendously wrong, and gloriously wrong.

The author begins by taking us into a room full of animals, including an elephant, an owl and a mouse. There is also a person: Rebecca. Rebecca listens to a Robin sing, but cannot hear most of the complexities of the sounds the bird actually makes. She also cannot hear the low-frequency growls of the elephant, which are easily picked up by the underbelly of a rattlesnake, which uses its tongue to sense the nearby mouse. Of course, none of this is perceived by Rebecca. When the room becomes dark, the mouse is easily located by the owl, whose ears are not symmetrical, allowing it to pinpoint the location of the mouse’s tiny footsteps, also neither heard nor located by Rebecca. And so on, a litany of the “huge world” of sights, sounds, smells and physical sensations that make up each animal’s reality. One different from all the others.

Yong’s first chapter wisely begins with smell and dogs. He works with Alexandra Horowitz, who initiates him into the power of the dog’s nose. We all know how bad dogs can smell, right? That with practice they can locate 3,000 year old burial sites, sniff out whale poo on the vast surface of the ocean, detect low blood sugar, find bombs, bodies and a fingerprint week old left out in the rain. But here’s what else they can do: They can sniff six times a second (try it), bringing air INTO their nose as they exhale. Have you ever wondered why a dog’s nostrils aren’t the same shape as ours? Notice how they’re split on the sides? This slit allows air currents that circulate the air, when a dog exhales.

But there is so much more. Elephants can sniff out TNT better than dogs. The snakes smell with their tongues and make them go in and out”. . . to create air currents that concentrate diffuse odor molecules on the tip of the tongue. Jumping spiders can move their retinas without moving his eyes.

One of my favorite stories in the chapter on vision discusses the age-old assumption of why zebras have stripes. The story has been, for decades, that the stripes acted as camouflage and/or, confusing the lions as the zebras fled them. Except Amanda Melin, who studies animal models, noted that lions’ vision meant they probably couldn’t even see the stripes, especially at night. Lions have poor eyesight and, as Yong tells us, they probably can’t tell a zebra from a donkey. (Have you seen the recent research suggesting that stripes confuse biting fliesnot lions!) Because we humans have such remarkable eyesight (much better than most other animals), we assume that others do too.

It continues : Birds can process notes in a song that we just can’t hear. Flowers are completely different for bees than for us. Animals feel vibrations that we are unaware of. The big picture here, that all species live in their own environment, is not new to anyone who has studied behavior. Learning about the wide range of sensory experiences available to other animals was one of my favorite parts of the classes I took. But this book has vastly expanded my knowledge, and I’m not even halfway there.

It’s understandable that we see ourselves as the center of the universe. Of course we are, for ourselves. But the universe is not what we think. It’s so much richer and more complex. So much more inspiring and amazing than we thought, living inside our own special set of filters that separates us from much of the world around us. Let science writer Yong help you discover the richness of reality that surrounds us, but only available in a book as good as this.

MEANWHILE, back at the farm: I learned a new motto for the sport of sheepdog trials: “When ordinary humiliation is not enough.” Last weekend’s trial at Nippersink didn’t go well for me and Skip, and the judge told me this motto as a way to ease my angst.

I also recalled the comment of a good friend, manager and overall brilliant woman, Nancy Flynn, who said, “I’ve never worked so hard to be so mediocre.” (I might add that she kicked around with her 11-year-old dog Leo the next day.)

Basically, a super crumpled course, magnetic pulls in three directions, and sheep running like deer seemed to have fried Skip’s brain. After running so well the last two tries, it came back to orbit (travel so wide it has no effect on the sheep) and ignored my stop signal at nine to start the cross drive . On his second run, after we made quite a mess, Skip refused to leave the sheep with another dog so he could be moved to the rest area. It was so bad that I almost didn’t run it the next day for a third run, wondering if the course and the sheep were just going to set it back. But I’m glad I did. He didn’t take my signal lap on the cross drive, but otherwise it was a great run. Big overrun, but nice comeback and excellent recovery line. Temporized as a sheep entered the pen. Sigh. My best guess is that the pressure, and it was intense, overwhelmed him on Friday, and he went back to all his bad habits. Sigh. But, it’s a trial, and we’ll keep going and hope for better luck on the next trial. (With, of course, a lot of training . . .).

Thanks to everyone who worked so hard to put on the trial, and in particular to the particularly amiable judge, Terri Nicolau, who eased my angst while I wrote for her (recording the points and timing the race). “It wasn’t so bad,” she kept repeating. (It was.) Here’s a nice shot of a dog picking up the sheep where they were dropped off by a dog handler and a box of cereal. Notice that two of the sheep have already raised their heads and are starting to walk away before the dog even gets in place. In the dog’s defense, the fence was only a few feet away and there wasn’t much room to back up much further.

Things are moving on the farm: Roberta has been a devoted mother, sitting on her eggs with only an occasional break to eat and bathe. At one point I got worried – she went back to the nest and seemed unable to calm down. “She” took care of the eggs, turned right, turned left, but was then joined by a second Robin, which made me realize that the nervous one was Robert! What a good partner; just a guy, doing his best for his mate. Everything seems fine now; it will be several days before the eggs hatch, and I can’t wait.

The next photo is of another mom on the farm, a House Wren, nesting in the newspaper box next to our mailbox. She scolds Jim and me every time we go to get the paper or the mail, but she’s getting used to us and seems less worried than before. She has already made a nest there, even with the daily stuffed in the box. But her nest is strong enough to withstand a paper pushed against it, and the eggs are in a small depression at the back. Although she is disturbed at least 4 times a day, she is determined to raise her babies there and I support her. Next year we will install a cave nest right next to the paper box.

The day lilies are in full bloom, here is a close up of one of my favorites. I love how you can see the pollen so well on the anthers of the stamen.

View from the kitchen. . . .

Now, of course, I wonder how butterflies, wasps and flies perceive daylilies. Off to do more research. Or, simply savor the riot of colors that is our backyard now. Maggie and Skip, however, are sitting by the door looking at me – time to go work on the sheep, isn’t it?

That’s right, you two, here we go. And now I wonder what flowers look like for sheep?

Here is the hope that you too are able to revel in curiosity for some time this week. It’s a great place.