At Nudgee, I once saw something curious. Two birds — clearly different species — were standing a little apart, watching the water. One flapped its wings noisily, stirring up fish. The other swooped in and grabbed a snack. Then they did it again. And again. It looked rehearsed. It made me think about what birds can teach us about teamwork — not just within their own flocks, but even across species.
I didn’t know what they were at the time. I just stood there, amused. Impressed. A few clicks and a bit of help from the internet later, I figured them out — one was a white-faced heron, the other an eastern great egret. Different birds, different styles. But clearly in sync.
They didn’t speak. Didn’t exchange glances. But they worked together like seasoned professionals. It was quiet, effective teamwork. And it stayed with me.
We’ve been studying animals for years. Not in the wild, but in labs. Think of Skinner’s pigeons. Pavlov’s dogs. Harlow’s monkeys. Thorndike’s cats. All of them in cages, pressing levers, solving puzzles, or drooling on cue. From them, we learned about rewards, conditioning, learning curves, even motivation.
Great science. But very controlled. And very individual.
Push a button. Get a treat.
Climb a pyramid. Reach your potential.
Respond to a bell. Salivate on time.
Useful frameworks, no doubt. But they often missed something that birds in the wild seem to understand naturally — the power of doing things together.
Birds Of Different Feathers
A new study from the Smithsonian Conservation Biology Institute changes the frame. Researchers analysed more than 20 years of data from five bird banding stations in the Americas. What they found was remarkable. Certain migratory songbirds — like the American redstart and magnolia warbler — regularly travel together, across species lines.
Not by accident. On purpose.
These birds form what the researchers call “cross-species communities.” They migrate together, stop at the same places, forage in the same areas. Not because they’re best friends. But because it works. More eyes to spot predators. More beaks to find food. Less energy wasted. Better odds of survival.
Emily Cohen, co-author of the study, put it well: “We found support for communities on the move — considering migrating birds as part of interacting communities rather than random gatherings.”
It’s a lovely phrase: communities on the move.
Not networks. Not teams. No. Not even flocks. Communities.
It makes you pause and ask again: what birds can teach us about teamwork may be deeper than we assumed.
Together Is Smarter
We humans still cling to the idea of the lone genius. The hero’s journey. The self-made success story. But the truth is usually more tangled. Behind every solo act is a hidden chorus. A parent. A mentor. A partner. A team. A silent helper who made the win possible.
Flying solo might get you a headline. But it rarely gets you very far.
Those birds at Nudgee reminded me of that. Different feathers. Different instincts. But a shared goal. They weren’t doing a trust fall exercise. They were trying to eat. And they knew they could do it better together.
Nature doesn’t do TED Talks. It does what works.
And what seems to work — even across species — is collaboration.
So next time someone says, “I built this myself,” you might want to ask:
Really?
Or did someone help stir the fish?
