I REMEMBER when I was a child wondering what the world would be like if animals could talk to us. Imagine your dear pet with whom you have shared your life, being able to engage in conversations, call your name and ask for food in a language we could all understand. There were even TV shows and movies showing futuristic inventions of collars with built-in translators that could instantly interpret any sound of your pet into an audible word in the dictionary. Ten years ago, Google even released an advertisement called “Google Translate for Animals,” a mobile application that translates any animal speech into human vernacular — which of course, was just a measly prank meant for April Fool’s Day. Yet, apart from the nonsensical fictional world where animals could talk to us, maybe in this reality we share they already are — but not in a language we can listen to, but a language we can barely feel, see and smell.
Truth is that nature communicates in different ways beyond our physical senses. Dolphins and other cetaceans communicate with their pods through a series of clicking sounds and whistles underwater. Whales communicate through songs and hymns, where some of its vocal frequencies are way beyond the scope of what our human ears could possibly hear. Much like bats, they communicate through echolocation by sending ultrasonic frequency waves. Even dogs communicate more with each other through scent and smell by sniffing each other and the territories they mark. Apart from the auditory and olfactory, some birds even communicate visually through the vibrant colors of their feathers as well as their impeccable dance rituals in order to court their mate. Even plants and trees, which for many of us may seem inanimate, communicate through electrical and chemical signals that they secretly send to each other, much of which is just recently being studied. The same plant, locally known as “makahiya,” folds its leaves downward in response to touch as a way to defend itself, the same shy behavior for which it was named. Recent studies and articles published in the National Geographic shares how some trees practice the crown shyness, a phenomenon where the branches and overhanging canopies of the trees avoid contact with each other. This behavior forms mysterious gaps that helps the trees stay healthy, avoid diseases, and share resources with each other.