Juveniles

Puppies. Kittens. Goslings. Cygnets. We respond to their charming goofiness, the fuzzy down or new fur and air of happy expectation. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a depressed (but healthy) puppy. Every spring we witness the miracle of rebirth and respond with ancient rituals celebrating the myth of eternal return in new life, such as May Day and Easter.




















Banner Marsh is a charming place in late May. Goslings trail their parents, and swans pull up weeds for their cygnets to eat. Often birds seem small, if a little downy, and are probably recent fledglings. There is a lot of to-and-fro-ing from food source to nest site. Eagles still patiently tend their young even though they are starting to flex their large wings. Adult eagles seem to regard their juveniles as we regard our teenagers: exhausting moochers! Sometimes even the most devoted parent ignores the begging.

If you are lucky, you can witness the first attempt at independence of the young bird. I spotted an odd-looking female blackbird piteously gaping at an adult male, and then I realized it was a juvenile just learning to feed independently. A flying lesson came next, ending in a pathetic crash landing. I winced, reminded of the first driving experiences with my own daughters.

I wonder that I don’t respond in the same emotional way to tadpoles or caterpillars. Perhaps it is because they are not vertebrates. Perhaps it is because they are so obviously part of a large statistical game: a great many are produced but few survive. And of course it is really hard to care that most tent caterpillars will be consumed by birds when those fuzzy larvae have demolished the leaves of a favorite tree.

That is not to say that birds and mammals are not immune to distruction. As many as 80% of some songbirds die in their first year. Even when there is long term parental care, mortality rates for the young can be high. In pre-industrial human societies, many children died before 5 years of age. We forget that only one of Abraham Lincoln’s four sons survived to adulthood, a mere one hundred and fifty years ago.

So perhaps the affection we have for young vertebrates is related to the knowledge that their freshness and exuberance is transitory and therefore precious, even with the best of care. Watching a young bird or mammal master their environment gives us a chance to view the world again with their eyes, untried, exciting, and new. For a moment we rest in the bright white drop of the eastern yin/yang symbol and we can ignore the dark side of the life story.