He Speaks Raven – Talking to the Wild and Eavesdropping on Animals with George Bumann | EP 25 Live Free Ride Free

Rupert Isaacson: Thanks for joining us.

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So now let's jump in.

Welcome back to Live Free, ride Free.

When we talk about self-actualization
so much of it has to do with how one

orients oneself on the planet towards
the other denisons of the planet.

One can think so much of
self-actualization as the self,

but the self is nothing, if not
something in relation to other.

And that other is not always human.

So my guest today rhymes with human,
but sounds something like this.

George, welcome to Live Free, ride Free.

What was that?

Who are you and what do you do?

George Bumann: Thank you
for having me, Rupert.

That was a common raven, which if you
live in the Northern Hemisphere, you

probably know this bird is a large
black, glossy corvid family member.

And it just said that this is my home.

This is my place and I appreciate it.

If you stay on your side of the fence,

Rupert Isaacson: would that Raven
be saying that to, to another

raven, or would that Raven be
saying that as equally to me?

George Bumann: To other ravens,
you know, that they are the largest

songbird in the world and as unsung
like as that may sound, that is

in fact functions as their song.

Rupert Isaacson: Well, that sort of

George Bumann: sounds to me a bit

Rupert Isaacson: like the sort of
industrial metal singer of the, of

the avian world m partial to indeed.

Perhaps they

George Bumann: are.

Yes.

Yes.

It's appropriate observation.

Rupert Isaacson: If, if the Raven
were to see us on the other side

of that fence and was to vocalize,
what in your experience would it be

likely to vocalize and, and, and why?

Yeah,

George Bumann: sure.

It would, it would say this,

Rupert Isaacson: and that's
milk, no sugar, please.

Isn't it?

When a raven's making you a cup of tea.

I think I've,

George Bumann: yes, they will do that
in those situations, but more often

as we experience here in Yellowstone
near our home, it's when someone pulls

out the Cheetos or the bag of crisps
as they call them in, in many parts

of the, of Europe there, the, that
extra notes and they're a little bit

faster, is a bit of possessiveness
that's conveyed through those sounds.

Rupert Isaacson: Do you think the raven
at, at this stage, if I hear that,

is the Raven saying, I would like to
share those Cheetos with you, sir?

Or is the, is the raven
according to other Ravens saying

potential Cheetos on the ground?

Or some mixture of the two.

George Bumann: Well, that is most
often the sound you hear, the, the

residents give when something really
good enters their field of view.

So in, in other words, that would
probably most likely equate to

mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.

I'm sort of

Rupert Isaacson: about it and a little

George Bumann: bit worried
that someone else not yours.

Mine.

Rupert Isaacson: Wonderful.

Sounds like me.

Alright.

Well, George Booman you've got a jolly
interesting life and I think where

I would like to start is I want to
start with a book that you've just

put out eavesdropping on Animals.

What a wonderful title.

I like the fact that it's eavesdropping
and not listening because I often

get that sense of stumbling into
conversations in the wild, in nature

that maybe are happening outside of me.

And I'm lucky enough maybe to overhear,
but I can't necessarily claim to

be a part of the conversation.

I'm not a hunter gatherer.

I'm not living at that depth in nature.

So I think the eavesdropping part
of your, of, of your title is.

Quite indicative of us in the
modern age because in many ways I

feel that's what we can hope for.

Why did you write this book?

What does it mean to you?

How did you come to write this book?

You can clearly articulate the
vocalize vocalizations of animals and

interpret them to a very good degree.

George Bumann: Yeah.

Rupert Isaacson: But this
is switching it around.

Talk to us about this.

Why'd you do it?

George Bumann: Yeah.

The, the real drive for it, Rupert,
was just this sense and experience

of my own that I always felt
outside of what nature was doing.

I grew up on a lake in, in upstate New
York state here in the us and there just

seemed like there was this veil between me
and the world of the deer, the beaver, the

water snake, that there, there were things
going on and they knew things about me

that I couldn't tell how they knew them.

I would go just as a
boy to track the foxes.

When the lake would freeze, I would
hike across the, the frozen lake into

the swamps and follow fox tracks.

And one day I came upon this set of
tracks that I learned enough at that

point to know that these were fresh.

These were so fresh that they'd literally
just probably happened minutes before.

And I could sort of back calculate
in my mind where I was when this fox.

Did this skid move where it basically
came to a screeching halt on the

icy snow in of the swamp, and took
off in the opposite direction.

It knew I was there and I
had no clue it was there.

And how did it do that?

How is it possible that these creatures
are, are understanding the world

beyond mine by beyond what I perceive?

And it just frustrated me.

I, I went through all the things that
I knew to, to get closer to nature in

that area and in that culture I grew
up in, I fished, I hunted, I I trapped.

I did all these terrible
things I don't do now.

They taught me a lot.

I even went through a bachelor's
and master's in wildlife ecology

that didn't feel the well.

And what I've come to realize over
the last two and a half decades of

guiding and teaching others here in
Yellowstone is that it is sound, it is

sight, it is our senses on the whole
that are our doorway into this space.

But if and only if we know how to
use them and how to direct them you

know, there is this separation we
have from each other these days with

computer technology and other devices
and things that isolate us even when

we're sitting next to one another.

Say nothing of, you know.

Larger societies in in your,
our town, our, our, our nation.

But that's amplified even further when
you jump across the species divide.

What is that rabbit doing right now?

Rupert Isaacson: How end,
how did you end up going from

New York over to Yellowstone?

You, you clearly went to college.

You, you're an eco boy.

Yeah.

You learn your environmentalism also
with a bit of hunting and fishing, which

honestly is our biological imperative.

I feel It's not a terrible thing as
long as one does it with respect.

It's who we are.

Mm-hmm.

But yes, if, if we don't need to
do it, perhaps we can interact

with animals in another way.

But how did you end up coming to the, to
the sort of iconic American West there?

And again, why, what are you,
what are you trying to communicate

to us about this place?

Because I know that your
interaction with nature isn't

just about the big wilderness.

Talk to us about how, what's your, what
was your trajectory that got you there?

George Bumann: Yeah, so I grew
up in the land of my ancestors.

My family went back to the second
settlers in that area of New York state.

And, and that has its
own interesting history.

But when I went to graduate
studies in Virginia.

I went to study predator,
prey, ecology of birds.

And I enjoyed it greatly, but as I said,
it did, didn't quite fill the void.

I did, you know, some publications and
help with a popular press book and things.

I met my wife there and as often as
the case, we move great distances

when we meet a girl or a guy and, and
she had worked here in Yellowstone.

I was done with academia for a bit.

I, I wasn't sure if I fit there.

Or in the research world
I had inclinations that

way, but I needed a break.

So I followed her where she was
following her passion back to, so we

moved here and she became the campus
manager of a field school out there

in, I think you've probably have been
there, a Lamar Valley in the northern.

I know Lamar Valley.

Yes.

So we lived there.

There of America.

Yeah, precisely.

Yeah.

Yeah.

We lived there for first few years and
I was trying to figure it out, you know,

I was really trying to, to, in some
ways probably even find my way back to

the sense of community I had among the
people in the landscape I grew up in.

You know, everyone knew
me, I knew everyone.

I went to Virginia.

Very few people knew me,
got to know some people.

But when we moved to Yellowstone,
we weren't around people.

No.

Not there.

That's, that's no, not there.

And not then in, in, in large part.

And so it, it was the, a togetherness and
a desire to feel of a place that really

kind of codified my, my approach to how
I, I started out there in Yellowstone.

It, I was teaching, I taught
longer than I've done anything.

Helping people connect in one of those
powerful ways was, was through sound.

But I needed it for myself to, and the
most common species, the most common

non-human residents there that we
saw and interacted with were ravens.

And so every day they were
there, they were part of life.

They weren't interacting in the, you know,
handshaking way and exchanging, you know,

notes and, and food or anything like that.

'cause that's of course
not allowed in the park.

But they were a constant
presence that drew me outward

from myself, you could say.

And what they revealed
to me was fantastic.

The ability to know that the wolves
may have just made a kill over

on the, behind that one ridge.

That the otters are fishing along
the river right there, right now.

That there might be an owl
in the tree over there.

Do you wanna go see it?

Okay, let's go.

Oh my gosh.

Indeed it is.

And so through these birds who just.

Are easily dismissed along
with any other species.

Think of what you encounter regularly,
whether it's a city or a wilderness.

Pigeons.

Squirrels, you know, they have a life,
they have a world unto themselves.

They have culture.

They might have what we can call
language that once we slow down

enough to see that it's there,
we begin to receive those gifts.

Rupert Isaacson: There's lots, I've
been to the Lamar Valley and it's one of

the most charismatic places in the USA.

It's one of the only places in the world
where you can sort of see wolves out

in Plainview and that sort of thing.

It's, it's extraordinary.

But it's also full of charismatics.

The word other, you know, iconic birds.

There's, you see bald eagles there,
there's all sorts of interesting smaller

birds, lots of other corvids mag pies.

Crows.

Why the ravens?

Is it because they're the
most like us in a weird way?

George Bumann: They are intelligent and,
and maybe that's part of that mystery.

We're always

Rupert Isaacson: Yeah, yeah.

Drawn

George Bumann: to the mysteries
of the world around us.

And, and the more complex sing,
the more tantalizing they are.

Right.

And ravens have this mystique.

You know, I was a birder for,
for many years, and when I grew

up, the idea of birding was.

Ludicrous, unless you were a
grandmother sitting there watching

the feeder, you know, you didn't go
out for a walk just to watch birds.

So I didn't really learn about that
and participate in that until I

was at the university and then just
was taking hook line and sinker.

And I had been writing down the Raven's
name for years along with all these

other names, but that's where it stopped.

They were just names.

They weren't minds and
meaning and revelation.

And when we moved to Yellowstone,
they're big, you know, it's easy to be

pulled in by the big and loud things.

You know?

They're not shy to get
relatively close to you too.

They, yeah, yeah.

Especially if you, you're,
you're starting to eat lunch,

and so it was an easy
starting point mm-hmm.

For me.

And so I didn't read any of the, the
Raven literature, you know, coming

outta that academic background.

I, I made a very clear decision.

I did not wanna read
anything about ravens.

I wanted to see for myself what
these birds were doing before I

dove into any of the, the, the other
behavioral, you know, work out there.

I just wanted to see what I could find in.

In association with these birds
in this place, in this moment.

And, and that's really
just how it started.

And it started very simple.

You know, they were always sitting or
discovered that there was always two and

they were sitting on the corral fence top.

As I got up each morning and as I was
doing chores and getting ready to guide

people on a trip, there was the Raven.

I'd go for a walk and there was the raven.

I'd be brushing my teeth and
out the window there was the

raven and always the same Raven.

Or when you say the raven, I
didn't know collective raven.

I didn't know that was a thing.

That was part of the adventure
is what, what is this?

How far do they range?

Does this thing claim title to
this whole Lamar, Lamar Valley,

or is it just right here?

It was a

Rupert Isaacson: single Raven, or it was
a group of ravens, or it was a, because

they, they seem to be as solitary as
their social and social as their solitary.

George Bumann: It was almost always two.

Okay.

It was almost always two.

And, and over time I discovered
that this pair who sat together,

presided over this place.

This was their home,
just like it was my home.

Except there weren't fences or
clear cut boundaries of a road or

anything that defined their space.

Their space was defined by
something much more abstract.

What was it Defined by sound.

It was defined by sound.

Okay.

And I remember clearly one day hearing
them well, the, the typical call

is the one I did at the beginning.

It's those three notes.

But one day it transitioned to,

and this was different, and this is the,
the diamond in the rough that we all hold.

If we just put in enough time to
figure out what's normal, what do

you expect when you see those ravens?

Or what do you expect to hear when you
spot those ravens and this diverged?

So, and this is different.

Why is this different?

And immediately one of those birds took
off from the archway corral fence and

launched itself across the valley and
proceeded to chase this other raven.

With great ferocity.

It was trying to, to grab it in the
air and push it down toward the ground.

And the other one was, you
know, just doing everything it

could to get away from this.

What I discovered was the resident pair,
this was their territory, and there

was this acoustic, no trespassing sign
that's represented in those three notes

that was violated, and the violation
was followed up with the chase.

But also this sound that from then on
forward, I'm like, oh my gosh, every

time I hear that, now I know someone's
not where they're supposed to be.

And someone who, who rules over
that airspace is chasing them off.

So I'd know immediately, okay,
there's a raven, there's two ravens

actually, if we look, oh, yep.

There they are.

One chasing the other.

The, the one behind is
the territorial bird.

The one in the front is the interloper.

And so immediately the, the
world starts expanding, right?

To see it from the perspective
of this big black bird.

Rupert Isaacson: Few questions
immediately spring to mind.

Do ravens usually live in pairs?

Because yeah, sometimes one sees
them solo, sometimes one sees to

see them in big, almost parliaments.

Um mm-hmm.

And then the other question is,
if they're that territorial,

what was that interloper doing?

And actually a third question, why
didn't it challenge and fight back?

Or might it have done in another context?

George Bumann: Yeah, that's
a really good question.

So typically they are territorial in
the sense of for nesting purposes,

you know, they kind of preside over
an area so that they can garner the

resources to take care of their young.

Mm-hmm.

So they're, they're most commonly
holding down the fort, shall we say,

when, when the, the stakes are high,
you know, they're bringing on the next

generation, passing on their genes.

But there are times you're right,
where you'll see 3, 6, 8, 10, hundreds.

Hmm.

And these cases like right now
here in our, our neck of the woods,

you'll see that surrounding big food
sources and birds, as we now know,

there's been a research project that
I, I was involved in peripherally

to study ravens here in Yellowstone.

You, and you would think that this
wilderness environment, the birds

are staying in the wilderness,
they're feeding only unnatural

foods, and it's not the case.

They are commuting daily,
20 to 30 miles each way.

To access food in areas outside of
the park and surrounding communities.

So for instance, when I was going to Lamar
to teach this program, I was passing the

Ravens who were going the other direction
past me, leaving their territories,

going out to the area around my home.

So we were actually trading places
as they were coming to take Oh,

coming traffic on the community.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

So there are things like the dump,
there are things like the sewage

treatment plant where they grotesquely
scour the, the fats that, that, that

come off of the, the settling ponds.

But mostly it's to take advantage
of human hunters killing game

outside of Yellowstone, so
on the national forest lands.

And so they're hoping that they
will encounter, you know, the, the

room pile and the organs left behind
from hunters of elk and bison.

And then you'll see these birds
com converged by the hundreds, you

know, 2, 3, 4, 500 in some cases
when food supply is really big.

And then they can

Rupert Isaacson: be very

George Bumann: cooperative
or at least tolerant.

Tolerant is probably a better
way to put it because they're

definitely these squabbles.

And if you hear the sound such as,

right, that, like, that's the sound of
a raven saying, get off my back buddy.

Don't, don't, don't peck my eyes out.

You know, this is, I have every right
defeat at this carcass that you do.

And so as you learn these sounds,
you start getting that window into

their world where they definitely
do cooperate, but conditionally.

So like a great example is this call, how,

ah,

and now at your home in Germany, in
Austria Scandinavia, Russia, north

America, Alaska, if you hear that sound,
it is one of those sounds among the

dialectics in, in, in regional variations
that ravens have that is consistent.

The territorial call is consistent.

And that call, that high
pitched call is also consistent

because it's so very important.

And the importance of that
is it conveys the presence of

food, but not just any food.

It, it communicates the presence of meat.

And when I did start, I ended
up reading the Raven Literature.

It overlapped with what I was seeing in
Yellowstone Barran Heinrich, one of the

world's leading authorities on Ravens
had discovered what he termed the hail

call, which was that high pitched ah,

and the time he saw it.

It was when a single raven found
an entire dead moose by itself

near Barron's cabin in, in Maine.

And as a behaviorist, this made no sense.

Why on earth would you shout out when you
have found this trove of food to yourself?

And so this is the, the, at the
risk of ruining, you know, Ravens in

winter, the book he wrote afterwards.

This call was a situational use of
cooperation as it turned out to overwhelm

the resident birds who presided over that
area that would otherwise kick it out.

So the meat call, the hail
call was actually used to draw.

And when he first heard it, that one
Raven called with that high pitch call.

And Ravens came outta the
woodwork and they joined it

to feed, and it made no sense.

Again, why would you share?

You built, you make this wonderful
dinner, and before you and your family

eat, you invite the h You know, the,
the, the local rugby team did dine first.

You know, that makes no sense.

You know, you don't get any.

But what he found was, yes,
these were young birds.

These were non territorial birds who were
kind of floating around and if they found

something in someone else's backyard,
they knew that if they gave this high

pitched hail call, it basically brought
in the rugby team and the football

team and, you know, the gymnastics
squad, so that the ravens who would

otherwise kick them out were overwhelmed.

Which is a fascinating
interplay that, that shows the

intelligence of these creatures.

Rupert Isaacson: So was that
one raven that was then driven

out by your resident Raven?

Do you think?

One of those semi juveniles
cruising, looking for a territory?

George Bumann: That's why I didn't

Rupert Isaacson: fight back.

George Bumann: Yeah, it didn't fight back.

Usually the,

in any case, when a bird chases another
bird, the one in the back has the

upper wing, upper hand, upper wing but

Rupert Isaacson: you can

George Bumann: turn

Rupert Isaacson: around and get
behind them or you could, but you,

you do see birds when they're in
combat in sometimes doing that.

And sometimes it's clear that
one is no, I'm just gonna defend

myself and get outta here.

And the other, other time it's like,
no, I'm gonna try and get on top

George Bumann: of you.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

It's a complex thing and it matters
who it is, you know, whether

it's a juvenile or an adult.

And that's one of the neat things
I feel like I've found since.

I was able to step behind some of
those layers of the natural world is

to realize they're all individuals.

They are really genuinely
individuals in the way we are.

So, you know, I was just talking about
this with a friend about grizzly bears.

It's not always the biggest grizzly
bear who dominates the carcass.

Sometimes it's a smaller one who just
has the attitude that others don't

wanna mess with the dog in the fight.

It's fighting the dog.

Rupert Isaacson: Yeah.

Bingo.

Exactly.

That's the rick, Rick McIntyre Wolf eight.

Right.

The, that, that amazing.

Yeah.

George Bumann: Yeah.

Rupert Isaacson: Of that.

Yeah.

Small male who seemed to
somehow kick butt all over.

George Bumann: Yeah.

Yeah.

Let's, by rights he should make, yeah.

And he started out as a subordinate.

And, and so the, the context in which
these non-human individuals find

themselves brings out these qualities
and characters that, you know, we often

see in ourselves when you go away to
college, when you get a new group of

friends, you know, the dynamic shifts.

And that's one of the most
beautiful things I think, to watch

over time, is the trajectory of
a life of a non-human individual.

You know, we've had the chance to do that
with individual elk and bison and wolves

in, in some of the cases of the wolves,
been able to watch generationally traits

and characteristics that are handed
from the grandmother to the mother,

to the granddaughter, and to her pups.

You know, just not just coat
color, but the way they hunt,

the way they relate to people.

These very dynamic and, and I think more
than anything that shows us we're not

alone in the way we navigate the world,
but that we are very much part of their

world, whether we think we are or not,

Rupert Isaacson: these ravens that
you got to know, interestingly,

you know, you're in a lonely place.

There isn't a lot of one could
perhaps, if there had been more people

around, you might not have paid so
much close attention to the Ravens.

Mm-hmm.

How long did you know them for and
what else did they guide you into?

Like you're mentioning the elk,
you're mentioning the wolf.

So they clearly opened up the
world, but you must have had a

relationship with them for some time.

How long did that last for?

How long do Ravens live?

How long did they keep their
territories and mm-hmm.

If they seeded their territories or died.

Just tell us a little bit the
story and now, now I'm curious.

I wanna know what happened to them.

George Bumann: Yeah, yeah.

It's, and it's a hard thing because
it was before this study started where

they were banding any of the birds.

So I, many of these species, and
I'm sure you've encountered this

too, they, they all look the same.

Yeah.

And as humans, we sometimes say
that even of other cultures, you

know, or other cultures say that
about us, that we all look the same.

But of an acquaintance, Joe Huro has,
you know, he got to the point after nine

years of literally embedding himself with
a group of wild mule deer in Wyoming that

he could tell by facial features alone.

And a few body features the
identity of over 200 individual

mule deer that all look the same.

Yeah.

But they don't, the truth is they really
don't, when you start paying attention,

and I didn't have the time to get to that
level with these birds, and I don't know

if I even really could, but I only had,
we, were they staying there in the summer?

So I basically had a season
to get to know these birds.

And I, if they traded places with some
other ones, honestly, I don't know if I

could have really identified who was who.

But they can live, gosh, there might
be some of the same birds there now.

They can live into their
teens and twenties.

Well that was gonna be my question.

As far as I know, they're quite long
lived birds, you know, even in the wild.

Yeah.

Yeah.

And that was one of the things
that I was very cognizant of when

I helped out with this Raven study.

'cause they were notoriously
difficult to capture.

Mm-hmm.

They're so intelligent and they're
so, astute in terms of reading

situations, but also seemingly
reading the intentions of, of us.

Mm-hmm.

So, for instance, we started
out one day in the park.

We had a dead squirrel and we
put it behind the vehicle we were

in and hid the trap, which is
this device that launches a net.

You know, we covered it in newspaper,
made it look like a pile of trash,

you know, and we sat there for hours.

And as we're sitting there, the ravens,
they knew, they see the squirrel, but they

would fly by and they would not just look,
they would look into the car windows.

They would look at us as if to say,
you should be getting out, you should

be going for a walk, yet you're,
you're doing something different here.

What, what are you doing?

And they would go perch on a rock,
maybe 200 meters away, and they

would just sit in and observe.

And they'd fly by again
a little while later.

And so it wasn't until we did a bit
of craftiness near our home with the

researchers in a place where the birds
have always come for generations.

There's a place where our
neighbor throws bones.

He is a hunting guide, and he would cut up
the, the, the game that they would collect

and hunt and throw the bones in this pile.

So I knew these birds were
coming to this, this bait pile.

They were not afraid of it.

So we set up the trap.

And lo and behold, Matias is a
wonderful fellow who is one of the lead

researchers from Austria that at that
time he was at the Max Plank Institute.

And we launched that net and
captured 23 Ravens at once.

Two of them escaped, so we're down to 21.

But still, Mathias says in that
smooth Austrian accent in, in, in

English, he says, I've never caught
this many, you know, literally I'm

on the phone with my wife, Jenny.

I'm like, bring every, every pillowcase,
every sack he had, he had a couple

cat carriers and some pillowcases.

I'm like, bring everything to the, to
the pasture at the neighbors quick.

You know, we've, and literally this,
this net looks like a, you know.

A, a container of bouncing burnt popcorn,
like these birds are just exploding outta

there and we finally bagged them up and
we're all bleeding because even though

this bird is not a raptor per se, you
know that big sharp hooked beak, they

have a small hook and they will cut you.

Rupert Isaacson: Yeah, I was
gonna say, I, I would wanna wait

in there in full armor, I think.

George Bumann: Yeah, pretty much.

Yeah, pretty much.

But you couldn't work very well with
gloves on, so you had to, you know,

they'd very delicately get the net out
from behind their tongues so you didn't

hurt them and get their, the net out
from between their, their toes and claws.

So you just had to open yourself up to it.

But through that process and the process
of weighing them, measuring them, putting

the transmitters on the leg, bands, I
knew that these long lived birds know

us, even though we can't tell them
apart as individuals, they know us.

And John Mars left, who is one of the
lead researchers on that same project,

had done a study in, in Washington that
you might be familiar with, with they did

crow crows close relative of ravens, and
found that they identify us as individuals

and they remember, and they pass it on.

They talk about us, and they would
harass this masked figure who

captured them, even though the, they
took the mask out for a walk on the

campus of Washington's university
of Washington campus once a year.

They captured once, remember
this, they captured one time

and let all the birds go.

Every time they wore the mask
that they did when they captured

the birds every year thereafter.

And it's been like 17, 18 years now.

The crows would go bananas.

They would harass that person
and ignore everybody else.

So through this process I had,
this was before Covid, I had a

handkerchief on, I looked like a
bank robber, you know, over my face.

I wore clothes that I
didn't normally wear.

I wore shoes that I didn't normally wear.

'cause if there was any chance of
pissing off the locals, I didn't

wanna be recognized as the guy who
was messing with him because in I talk

about this in the book, a friend of
ours didn't take those precautions.

Nobody else did, in fact, and she.

Went to a local cafe in town, like
two and a half miles from the capture

site and where we did the measuring
and all the, the workup on the birds.

Two weeks later, two and a half
miles away, she comes outta the cafe

with a scone and a coffee, okay?

And this, this raven shows up and it
takes this sideways hop toward her

like you're gonna gimme some of that.

And the moment she spoke.

Now, keep in mind, most of the birds
didn't see us anyway, or very little

because they were in a, a cloth sack that
would keep them safe, keep them calm.

But they were listening as well as
watching Shauna said, oh, what do you

think you're doing to this Raven, who
was sidling up for a piece of her scone.

And the moment she spoke,
the thing went ballistic.

It screamed in a way she'd
never heard a raven scream.

And it jumped into this spruce tree just
20 feet away and just screaming at her.

And meanwhile, these other ravens join
it and start screaming at her, and

they follow her all the way down the
street screaming, shame, shame, shame.

Yes.

And she knew, she had noticed it had
leg bands and a transmitter on its back.

So this was one of the birds.

She helped work up at the
study site and it remembered.

Not her, her outward appearance,
it remembered her voice.

It only did this after she spoke.

So in addition to being all covered up
and wearing different clothes, I was

trying not to talk just on the chance.

And they found this in elephants too.

Like they, they know us
way more than we realize.

Rupert Isaacson: So the
eavesdropping is two way.

They're eavesdropping on us.

We are eavesdropping on them precisely.

And they're, I guess the subtext
of that is there really is no us

and them, we're all part, we're all
part of the same species habitat.

There's a lady where I'm sitting
right now in a large village, small

town in Germany called Eden Hausen.

There is a park across the street from us
which is also, it, it, it's also farmland.

It's sort of half park, half
farmland, and then it goes

out to the forest in the park.

But it's sort of a public
place where people walk.

There's a lady who goes
and she feeds the crows.

And I've been watching her for
seven years and she shows up.

The crows are all lined up.

They, they see her coming and she has an
individual relationship with each one.

And if you show up there,
she'll introduce you.

And I, a bit like you
have realized that I.

Pretty sure they know who I am.

And therefore, I want to mind my
P's and Q's a little bit because

I, I don't want to get mobbed.

Walking through that, and my wife Eliana,
who you just met for this podcast out

where we keep our horses, she started to
bring things for the crows because we got

the idea because a friend of mine during
Covid in London decided to grow decided

to grow garlic on his balcony, and he
put window boxes out, and he came out

one day and found the garlic, dug up from
the soil, placed still in the soil, but

inside where the garlic had been a peanut.

And this happened over all times.

And, you know, all kind what's going on?

All kinds of theories.

Everyone's, he texted me about it, you
know, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

I've got no idea because, you
know, you're an nature guy.

Rupert, you know, got window
box in Hackney London.

No, no idea.

You know, squirrel.

I don't know, but it
doesn't sound like squirrel.

Yeah.

Why?

And why, why is it taking
something out, Rupert?

Anyway, of course, he watched and
watched, and watched and watched.

It was one day he was coming home,
getting out of his car, and he saw

the raven, the, the, the crow fly in.

Dig off his garlic and put a peanut in it.

And then he is like, well, why?

And where are they
getting the peanuts from?

So then he gets obsessed, of course.

And it's covid, so there's
nothing else to do.

So, which is great because, you know, this
is a time we can actually observe nature.

And he begins to follow.

And he followed one basically
through the neighborhood, and he saw

that they were going to the local
Turkish delicatessen where they had

bags of peanuts outside in sacks.

Oh, wow.

And they were waiting till No, and
they were sweeping, they grab one.

George Bumann: Hmm.

Rupert Isaacson: But then they were going
and depositing it in his window box.

What were they saying?

Were they saying, well, we think
you put that there for us, the

garlic, but we don't like garlic.

So here's a suggestion about
some things we might like.

Or were they saying, we think
you put this garlic here for us.

We don't like it, but it's
the thought that counts.

So here's something for you.

None of the above,

but fascinating,

George Bumann: very fascinating.

Rupert Isaacson: The, the,
that's sort of my question is,

you know, ravens in the wild?

You mentioned wolf, you mentioned elk,
and I hope you'll take us back there.

But most people, of course, live in
urban situations or suburb situations,

and of course, they're surrounded by
nature and surrounded by wildlife.

Our, our mutual friend Craig Foster,
talks about walking around London and

observing where slugs have gone on
paving stones and eaten the algae.

That's growing on the paving stones.

And he can, he's learn to identify not
just the trails, but the tooth marks

because they're extremely similar to
those of the slugs and the sea slugs that

are on his kelp forest in South Africa.

And he's there feeling,
you know, overwhelmed and

freaked out by the big city.

He hates it.

And then he starts to get his tracking
eyes on and he's realizing, oh my gosh,

I'm actually surrounded by wildlife.

Yeah, eavesdropping on nature.

TT take us into the city.

Now.

Take us into a more suburban setting.

George Bumann: Yeah.

Wonderful questions and, and
wonderful lead in, because

nature really is everywhere.

You don't have to live next to the,
the great kelp forest of South Africa,

like Craig or next to Yellowstone.

There's wildness everywhere that is,
that is the, almost with the hallmark of

life as it fits in all the places that
it possibly could, whether it's a plant,

a, a, a microbe, a, a bird, a mammal.

And they make due.

And in some cases, being near people
is actually way more advantageous than

being without, you know, they found that
raccoons, for instance, in some places in

the United States are, are far more well
off in suburban and urban environments.

They learned to cross streets.

They learned to use intersections.

They also come along.

My Uber driver the other

Rupert Isaacson: day
was a raccoon actually.

George Bumann: Yeah.

Was really?

Yes.

And did he, did he keep both hands on
the wheel or was it he didn't need to.

He was just driving by ESP.

Yeah, they're more intelligent.

Rupert Isaacson: As you know, if
you followed any of my work, I'm

an autism dad and we have a whole
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When my son, Rowan, was
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If you would like to learn this
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Let us know how it goes for you.

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George Bumann: So, you know, the, the
bottom line is you, you can interact

with these things, these non-human
intelligences everywhere, really.

And so let's step into a park.

Let's say you're, you're living in a park.

And because I know North American
species a little bit better, I'll,

I'll use that as an example where you
might be out it outdoors before light.

It's dawn and you hear,

so a great horned owl is there
somewhere in the distance.

And let's, let's actually add another,
a different owl in, because this one is,

is perhaps a little more instructive,

the Bard owl.

And before you can even see, before
the sun has come up, you know, in most.

In most likelihood, there is
an evergreen tree, or forest, a

component to the forest in the park.

Okay?

So that the sun comes up or it's getting
close to sunrise, and you hear, you

know, perhaps if it's a big enough
park, you'll hear, teach, teach, teach,

teach, teach the sound of an oven,
bird, which is a type of war garden.

It's an oven.

Bird, yeah, it's a very small bird.

And they make a nest that's kind
of a globe with a side entrance,

like an old fashioned bread oven.

And they only nest in
mature continuous forest.

Whereas if you hear, we, we, we, as the
sun is just starting to creep up that

gray cat bird, you know that there's a
brushy area, perhaps somewhere over there.

You hear the rattle of a kingfisher.

You know that if you've never even been
to that place, that there's a stream or a

river or a pond where there might be fish
and this, this bird is looking for that,

or just simply the sound of amphibians,
frogs calling, there's a wetland, there's

a marsh, there's some other habitat there.

And so in, in many ways, I think
sound is better than vision.

We, we, we default to vision, but sound
can go over, around and even through

objects that we can't see through.

And by a way of engaging not just
our ears, but you know, learning

to, to see through our noses,
learning to see through our fingers.

We discover things that we walked
right by in places we thought we

knew, perhaps for our whole lifetime.

And by starting to listen to these
wild conversations, you realize a,

you're, you're surrounded by these
other living beings, but that they're

also telling you very important things
about what your shared space is Like.

Rupert Isaacson: So in June, I was,
I was in London at my mom's house and

my mom, like, your mom's a a artist, a
sculptor, and she has a studio out back

of the house and there's bed in it.

So I sleep there and I woke up to this
across the roof and I say, oh, squirrel.

Yeah, it's like

Scrabble, Scrabble, Scrabble.

I say, not squirrel.

And I look up at the skylight, there's
a fox scrambling as if it's digging.

At the skylight, and I'm looking
up at him up at his belly.

I've never had that
perspective on a fox before.

In fact, I don't think I've had that
perspective on any wild animal ever.

It's not fully grown.

It's about a, it's probably
about eight months old.

It's quite skinny, but it's, it's
semi adult and it's obsessively

scrambling at the skylight.

Like, what do you want you,
that's not gonna give it's glass?

Is it play?

And then at a certain point it
curls around and curls around and

goes, and it lies down to sleep.

And I'm looking up at this from
underneath at this sleeping fox.

I'm there for a few days.

It cra I'm taking pictures.

I'll, I'll send them to you.

The third day I realize it's a family
up there and they're living up there.

They're living on the roof.

Because I guess there's all kinds
of stuff to eat falling down on

there from the various local trees.

There's probably insects, there's
probably spiders, there's probably

wood lice, there's probably ants.

Turned out there were a
big nest of ants up there.

And that's what they were scrambling for.

George Bumann: Mm-hmm.

And the

Rupert Isaacson: ants began to
fall through the, later in the

summer the tile, the, the, the,
the, the old ceiling and it.

Turn.

And now of course they got the time.

Now my mom curses them because
they lift the tiles off.

The same fox is looking for the ants.

It it was one of those moments similar
to what you described when you realize,

oh my gosh, there's this whole world
going on here in this place that I think

of, in this entirely human context.

George Bumann: Mm-hmm.

Yeah.

Rupert Isaacson: But
it's compared wilderness.

George Bumann: Yeah.

Yeah.

It's it's where you find it.

And I've had some of the most
remarkable encounters with wildlife

in the most unlikely places, you know?

Can you give us an

Rupert Isaacson: example?

George Bumann: Gosh.

Well, a simple one is just knowing
that there's a cat on the loose.

You know, I was hiking with my wife
along the, the CNO canal after we'd

gone to meet her family in Maryland.

And we just went for a walk on
this old railway that had been

converted to a hiking path.

And, and the hill kind of drops down
the grade, drops down toward the

canal, and we're at such an angle we
couldn't see all the way to the water.

But all of a sudden, a re small bird
just jumps up on a, a stick, maybe,

you know, half a meter off the ground.

Cha cha cha cha cha, just
making all kinds of noise.

And I knew in an instant that
there was something dangerous.

Something of concern right close by.

So we crept closer and looked and
looked and finally got a look over

the berm and here's a domestic
house cat just, you know, doing

its thing, hunting along the canal.

And that's one of the real beauties
to me of, of this eavesdropping is not

only do you have the ability to find
animals that you, that were invisible

before, but you step into their world.

And our friend Craig is great at,
at talking about this, is that

you, you're not just studying
the octopus or the sea ice.

You're, you're, you're
seeing what eats them.

You're seeing what they run from,
you're seeing what they feed on.

You're seeing where they hide at night.

You're seeing where they go through the
sand in, in, in, you know, stormy periods.

You just, you, you step into their world
and to me that you can't not help but

begin to be more aware, certainly, but
also empathetic for what these wild

creatures go through to just survive.

And we, we live very posh
lives, very cushy existences

compared to our ancestors, but.

If you want a window into that,
just look at what your foxes have

to do to get by to raise their kids.

Look at what that pigeon, how far that, if
you get to identify that one oddly colored

pigeon and realize, you know, sort of like
your friend trying to narrow down where

the crows were going, you realize that
they're traveling over a very vast, you

know, bit of ground to, to make ends meet.

And, and all the travails they
run into, you know, there's other

members of their own species that
push them off and, and push them

around, or that they have to avoid.

You just, you just step into a new
world and the place you've always been

Rupert Isaacson: talking about.

Craig, you know, one of the

interesting things that came up
in our last conversation, it's

actually on this, on this podcast.

So for those listeners, go check out
the second podcast with Craig Foster was

that wellbeing, psychological emotional
wellbeing in a human tied up with nature.

Like, why is it that we feel so
good in nature beyond the fact that

we're our organisms and of course
we're designed for planet Earth.

And so, okay, we're gonna do better out
there than we do behind a screen, but.

This thing of you, you, you talk about
the travels they go through, but often

it seems to me that the natural world
really is it That's true abundance

and that animals, and of course
wild people are so competent gaining

sustenance unless some environmental
condition really shuts them down.

Or someone built a housing estate
right where they live or whatever.

George Bumann: Mm-hmm.

Rupert Isaacson: That there
really is kind of quality of life.

And we ourselves, as a species
feel really good when we are in

a place of great biodiversity.

'cause I think that there is
something ancestral in us that

goes, ah, lots of food here.

I'm Okay.

Lots of abundance.

You live in one of those
places, you live in Yellowstone.

What do you feel is the state of
the mental health of, say yourself?

Just take yourself as an example and
put yourself in different phases of your

life, in different times of mental health.

What do you feel these
places of abundance give us?

What do you notice in the.

People that are attracted to these
places that come, you know, Yellowstone

is this massive tourist attraction.

People want to be there even in a day
and age of completely sedentary culture.

And, you know, we're all overweight
and we're all this and we're all

that, but yet we are drawn in vast
numbers still to these, these places.

What do you think is going on with all
this and what do you think the locals,

the wild locals make of us there?

George Bumann: I think this is a, a
wonderful, wonderful question because

none of us are living in the ideal bubble.

Mm-hmm.

Right?

None of us have the perfect life, and
even if we do think of it, you know,

someone looks across the lawn and sees
something better and different that

they, they think they're missing out on.

And you know, I, this is, this
is one I've thought about a bit.

You know, I, I feel like the, the
high point in my life as far as mental

health and freedom and appreciation
of beauty and the, the feeling of, of

togetherness with all of the living things
in my family, neighbors, fish, birds

was when I was about seven or eight.

And I was always out on the docks fishing.

I was in, you know, we had had
about an acre of land, but the,

the latter half was not moan.

So it was kind of feral.

And that was my jungle.

That was my, that was my Amazon, that
was my African Savannah, like that.

I escaped into that space and
there weren't a lot of kids around.

Not that there weren't in the area and
didn't have a, a large class in school.

But when I came home I had myself,
but I had myself perhaps in the best

way in association with that space.

So there's constant, I think
one of the things that truly

diverse wild nature offers us is
this, this sense of possibility.

You know?

So as you become in tune with that space,
you see possibilities for the, the,

you know, Maslow's hierarchy, right?

That you as a, as an educator in, in
the outdoors leading a backpacking trip

or an expedition, you'll, you have to
worry about the pe people's safety.

Are they fed, are they hydrated?

You know, those, those key
elements that we need when

satisfied, give us a sense of calm.

I know we're, I know dinner's
coming at the end of the day,

I won't go to sleep hungry.

The sense of possibility for those
options is what I feel in nature.

But interestingly, for
myself, the progression was

society culture molds
us in different ways.

And I would say not always for
the better in, in the sense that

the human world is very inwardly
focused in, in a lot of ways.

Indigenous cultures not so much, you know,
of course they're much, they have to be

because they're directly tied to the land.

But for those of us in the
modern world, we're, we're less

and less directly connected.

So it's easy to fall into
this, me, me, me, my, my, my,

our family versus your family.

And starting in through my early
teens, I, I was wanting to fit in

and, and pleased those around me
to do what I thought I should do.

And even as I got into the university
and was very good at my studies,

I, you know, excelled and was
honored for all those things.

But I, there was this piece in me
that wasn't there satiated, it wasn't

fulfilled in the way those hours of free
play and exploration did for me when I

was in that seven to 8-year-old range.

And it's taken me a long
time to get back to that.

I think when, honestly, honestly,
when we first moved to Yellowstone,

I was not in a great place.

I, I, I didn't know what I was
supposed to do with my life.

Quite frankly.

We'd moved to this new place.

I knew I needed a break.

I tried doing illustration work
for publications, but the age

of illustration, it was gone.

I tried doing some writing that I
tried doing watercolor painting.

I was teaching.

I was just, there was just this
unquenchable longing for something.

I didn't know what

I just, and I think a lot of people
are in this position where you

just, you don't know what it is,
but you feel something's missing.

And I think this is very much a part
of that very old piece that resides

deep within us that longs for genuine,
supportive community that doesn't

judge us, that lets us be creative
and odd and weird and all those quirky

ways that lets us explore into our
environment without, without parameters.

And so the Ravens, for me, to be
honest, to bring some of this back

around, were my effort to start
recapturing some of my youth.

I.

In this non-judgmental, completely
open, non-directed way, that was

the epitome of freedom in many ways.

And we're not talking about political
freedom here or economic freedom.

I'm talking about personal lived
freedom to just wander over that hill,

to walk through that creek barefooted,
just because you want to, not because

you know, someone says that that
is what you should or shouldn't do.

And these days, I, my physical
health is better than it's ever been.

I think my mental health is,
is, is very close to all.

I'm still, you know, I think
we all struggle trying to find

things that give us a hand or,
or a rope to our better selves.

And, and nature, nature does that.

I was interviewing the project
veterinarian who brought the very first

wolves down to Yellowstone here recently.

And I asked him about the physical
health of these wolves and he said,

they're immaculate, they're beautiful.

Yeah.

Once in a while they get diseases.

Parvovirus can canine virus.

Sometimes they get mange, but
nothing compared to the health

and ailments of domestic animals.

And so many of the ills of the human
world spill over into our pets.

You can't not have a pet sometimes
and not see how our world, it's

an agreement in, in some respects,
but it's not in another, and it,

and we suffer from some
of those same things.

We are domesticated humans

and it, it brings a lot of baggage
with it, but it's heartening to

know that nature is that place
where we can offload the baggage.

Rupert Isaacson: It's interesting.

As you were talking there, I was drawing
this little diagram, so it started with

the questions like, is nature optimism?

And then I wrote under optimism,
I wrote belonging question mark.

And then when you said freedom,
I wrote freedom up at the top.

So then I've ended up with is nature
sort of with one of those brackets,

one of those squiggly swirly brackets,
freedom, optimism, belonging.

In fact, is it possible to have
those things really without nature?

George Bumann: I've never had to
answer that exact question, but

in my, my snap response is no.

Rupert Isaacson: And it's
interesting that you bring up wolves.

I was lucky enough in the
nineties to go and report.

Very, very early on the Wolf
Ry introduction in Yellowstone.

So I got to see a bit of that,
and I've gone back a few times

and seen how they've thrived.

But it seems to me that if there's
a species that really typifies that

in a way that almost reflects human
society a little bit, it's wolves.

What?

Talk to us about that.

And

you, you, you live there, you talk about
the Lamar Valley, that's sort of the best

wolf spotting spot in the world now really
because they're, they're out there on the

open ground from the few places you can
actually drive in your car and literally

see them by the side of the road.

Incredible.

Yeah.

Talk to us about wolves.

George Bumann: Wolves are contentious.

We have several bills that have been put
forward in our state legislature to, in

whatever ways they can annihilate them.

Again, you know, it, it won't happen
to the success of, of previous

times of the 19th century because
poison is not allowed at this point.

But I think like we as children who
have siblings squabble most, with those

who are closest to us or most like
us, there's the most we have to lose.

And I think as a social mammal who is
both territorial and outspoken, you

know, unafraid to be seen and speak.

Its mind howl at you right in your face.

You know, when you step too close to
the den un unawares there is at once

as indigenous cultures, my nesper
friends say that the wolves are how

we learn to be pit good parents.

You can see that similarity as,
as an analog and inspiration, or

you can see that as competition.

And therein lies a lot of the, the beauty
in the, the, the travails of, of the world

of wolves, especially in the context of
Yellowstone, where it's not like Northern

Canada or Alaska or Russia, where you have
vast untracked spaces for them to live.

They're living, you know, as they leave
Yellowstone in context with human society.

But when you see them as individuals
and get over some of the mythologies

that we attach to them, good, bad,
or indifferent, and see them for who

and what they are, they become, in
my mind, some of the best teachers.

They're like us in so many ways.

And that's the thing I, you know,
my art actually is a great, I use

my art as an excuse to dig deeper
into the lives of my subjects.

What I really try to portray is not
a wolf, or not a bear or not a elk.

It's, it's.

What is this being who resides in
this form thinking, you know, some

of these pieces take years to, to get
to my satisfaction because I'm trying

to model something that has no shape.

I'm trying to model what I receive
from them as perhaps anthropomorphized

as it is in some cases.

What's going through their mind?

How do they experience this same
exact moment as, as compared to me?

And when you're having a hard day for
whatever reason, coworker pissed you

off, or you you got sick and vomited in
the interview or just any, pick your,

pick your, you know, terrible day and
you go outside and you see this wolf

who's just gotten kicked in the ribs
and has three broken ribs and is still

out there providing for its family.

It's PAC Mate had its femur crushed,
and yet from the air, the biologist

flying along dart it and would never
have known that it only had three legs

because they just persevere that drive
to survive, that drive to persist,

to drive, to care for your young,
to drive, to protect your mate.

These eternal, deep universal things make
you turn around and look at your own.

Shitty day and think, alright, I don't
have really that much to complain about.

I've got dinner tonight,
my sweetie right here.

You know, I've got all my, my,
my bodily appendages in Good.

What's Netflix?

Yeah, I've got Netflix.

Totally.

So they're a wonderful mirror to us
in many ways because the behaviors of

animals will tell us a lot about ourselves
that perhaps we didn't even realize.

Rupert Isaacson: Yeah.

They seem to meet wolves to be,
to typify the best of family.

Mm-hmm.

That okay.

You've got an alpha pair who will have
the young, but the entire pack will

look after the young most of the time.

Yeah.

They will fight these territorial
battles sometimes to the death, but

really they're doing it for family.

Yeah.

When I was a journalist there, I remember
Idaho was also bringing wools back

in and it got blocked by the state.

Who withdrew the funding got withdrawn.

And the ne as you talked about
the Nez pe the Nez PE Indians

stepped up and said, we'll fund it.

Because for us the wolf
is a symbol of family.

George Bumann: Yeah.

Rupert Isaacson: Yeah.

You are living out there
and you are taking people.

Right?

So if somebody wanted to, we'll go
into this at the end, how people can

contact you, but people can actually
go with you into Yellowstone, right?

You guide people.

George Bumann: Yeah.

I still, I don't do as much as I used
to, but a few times a year I teach

classes and, and things like that.

So yes.

Rupert Isaacson: When you are bringing
people in, I presume sometimes people

are coming as families, some people
are come, you know, and you are

showing them these family structures.

What, what are the
insights that people gain?

What are the things they come away
with that they didn't expect perhaps?

George Bumann: I think one
of the, again, good question.

I think a lot of times the initial
takeaways are, they're not doing

what I thought they would do.

Rupert Isaacson: Okay.

George Bumann: They're walking right
by a whole group of elk or, you know,

they're just, they're just laying there.

Wolf's spend a lot of time laying about.

And until we really have a chance to,
to view them more and view individuals

and individuals from different packs.

And do you see this spectrum
of, of behaviors that sort of

calibrates and recalibrates?

What, those expectations are we
just so removed that yes, we have

dogs and it's easier for us to
relate to wolves perhaps that way.

And you'll hear that, oh my
gosh, it look, my dog does that.

It rolls on its back, or, or it spins
in circles before it, it lays down and

for no reason, well, you get to see here
it, you know, in the wild it, the wolves

doing it, you know, maybe to, to lay the
grass down, out there in, in the valley.

But to see those, some of those tender
moments too, I wish I could say I was

there for this one, but Rick McIntyre
maybe told you this story of Wolf 21.

He's like the all time am heavyweight
champion of, of wolf fights.

You know, he, he at one point
ran headlong by himself into

the, the center of an enemy pack.

And his pack subsequently rallied
around him and they drove off this,

this enemy to the Druid peak pack.

And yet this wolf that is so fierce
and so strident in his defense of his

family, can turn around and play with
his puppies, with abandon, you know,

let those puppies attack him and knock
him to the ground and bite him and

put their paws over his back, which is
something you do not do to a alpha wolf.

You know, you, you don't dominate or, or
symbol that, with these behaviors that

this father freely lets his kids do,
bite him on the ankles, you know, just

he falls to the ground and feigns, you
know, defeat so that these children of his

can experience something of, of what he
can teach them just by being who he is.

So I,

it's seeing these, these moments
and these, these little windows

into just how similar, very
much on parallel tracks in life.

You know, good dad plays with his kids.

A good mom reads them at at bedtime
and they, they really inspire.

And I think people come away from that
changed how, how can I be a better dad?

I do it too.

You know, it's like, man, it didn't run
off and get another bone at the carcass.

It actually stayed there and
it, it greeted that puppy

and played with that puppy.

And, and even if for five minutes, can
I do that with our dog to improve his

life and just, just stop after I come in
the door and I've got all these things

in this to-do list in my head yet?

No, just, just give, give
five minutes, give 10 minutes.

It's, it's nothing really,
but it means the world.

Yeah.

Rupert Isaacson: You, I watched a Ted
talk that you did in which you, and we

have not talked about your sculpture yet.

So listeners, George is an
extremely stonly good sculptor.

Won a bazillion awards and a
bazillion shows and look him up.

We'll give you web things at the end.

If you wanna pay a million dollars
for sculptures, you should.

'cause they're great.

But you were sculpting

out of clay on stage a wolf,
but I remember you saying,

or did I, did I see it right?

Is it a wolf?

And you turned it into a coyote and
then you turn it back into a wolf,

then you turn it into a Labrador, then
you say, no, it's definitely a wolf.

And it's, is it a she wolf?

And then you cocked the leg.

It was great.

Of the wire structure and then you
was No, it's actually is a she wolf.

And then you, and you told a
story, which I found very inspiring

about motherhood.

George Bumann: Hmm.

Rupert Isaacson: Can you
tell us that story please?

George Bumann: Yeah, yeah.

And it's, it's a good one because
it's, it was one where I was out

with a family and it was midsummer.

So the first week of June
July in Lamar Valley.

And this family dearly
wanted to see wolves.

And so I'd taken them to
a place that overlooked.

The route through which the, the local
wolf pack took to get to their den.

So you'd see Cummings and goings
potentially all day long, but at that

time of the year, it's time for the
puppies to really gain their exposure to

the wider world, you know, here to four.

By early July they've lived in the
den and food have been brought to

them and toys have been brought to
them and the families visited them

there and taken care of them there.

But there comes a point where you have to
get out into the world and see what it's

really like and who you have to contend
with in the situations you run into.

So, explain that to the family.

This is the place where, you know,
we could see the Druid wolves coming

and going from the den, you know,
hear that often the places they cross

the river and in the distance, you
know, some of the trails they used.

So keep your eyes open.

And we were there for a little while and
at one point the daughter says, there's a

wolf over there and we're on this bluff.

That sort of drops down to first the
road, then a small creek that flows into

the Lamar River and then the Lamar River.

And along the, the edge of
this same bluff was a wolf.

She was right.

She, she was entirely right.

It was maybe a quarter
mile from us, half a mile.

I can't remember.

'cause we were looking through spotting
scopes, but it wasn't just any wolf.

This was the Alpha female, the famous
Wolf, 42, the Cinderella Wolf depicted

on multiple television programs quickly.

Why was it a Cinderella wolf?

She was dubbed the Cinderella wolf because
when the wolf were returned in 1995,

as you experienced, they were brought
as much as they could in family groups.

And when she was brought down with
her family, one of the other quote

unquote family members, as it
turns out, we now know genetically

was not a pure sibling to her.

And as shown by Bob Landis' footage in
some of the National Geographic films

early on that came out, she and her other
sisters and even her mother were brutally

terrorized by this wicked stepsister.

She drove her mother outta the pack,
drove a couple of her sisters outta

the pack, drove Wolf 42 outta the pack,
and ultimately they got sick of it.

This was the, this

Rupert Isaacson: was the she wolf.

I remember hearing about this.

You actually went around killing
the cubs of some of the other ones.

Is that right?

Correct,

George Bumann: yes.

40 Wolf, 40 was her number would went to
the year before and killed 40 twos pups.

And apparently she highly unusual
behavior among wolves too.

Very unusual.

Very unusual to kill.

Pups or any individual within
your own pack, that is very

get so in any species unusual.

Yes.

Right.

We, we don't have the corner on
that, but it's far more rare, I would

say, even than in our population.

So 42 was not gonna take it as it
seems is from what we understand.

She and perhaps one of her adult daughters
and maybe a couple others, put their

paws down, said Not this time sweetie.

And they beat her up badly and she
ultimately died of her injuries.

So this is kind of the pretext
to her that morning, but also

her rise and her ascendance to
be the alpha female of that pack.

She was a, a strong leader,
but she, if I can use a human

term, was, was compassionate.

Mm.

You know, even, even as an alpha, they
don't always lead from the front, you

know, and she would lead from the back.

Sometimes she would lead from the middle
of the pack when they were traveling.

And at the time we saw her this morning
with this family, she was eight years old.

Now, keep in mind, this is almost three
times the normal lifespan of a, a regular

wolf in the population at that time.

So within her was this
accumulated wisdom of life

and that plays into the events
that unfolded in a really.

Beautiful way that I thankfully realized
then, but even more so now as a parent.

And as we watched 42 stood on that bluff
and she at one point looked behind her,

which if you know anything about animal
behavior, was often a, a, a sign quite

universal, one that someone else is there.

She looked back into the forest and
outta that forest came five little

puppies just clamoring tiny little
characters, you know, just 7, 8, 9 weeks

old, however old they were very young.

And they joined at her heels as
if to say, okay, now what mom?

And she gave the signal, whatever that
signal was, and they descended the

bluff down toward the road and the park
rangers stopped traffic so that the,

the family could cross the, the road.

And it was hysterical because it was
late enough in mourning that the sun had

been hitting the asphalt and it was warm.

And I noticed as these puppies were
dancing across the pavement of the road,

that they were kind of like picking
up their paws in this funny ways.

If they had something stuck to them,
when, in fact, I think it was just

the heat of the, the road in the, the
morning sun was a new sensation to them.

Right.

And they get across the road,
it's like, woo, they made it,

there are three big obstacles.

The road, the creek, and then the river.

And phew.

Okay.

So they, they go across and
they hit Soda Butte Creek.

And mom is now joined by
two of her adult daughters.

So auntie one and auntie two join, and
the adults go to the Ford, the crossing

place of the creek that they usually use.

And the three adults cross the creek.

And the pups aren't sure
about this whole thing.

They're, you know, they're
very apprehensive about

stepping into the water.

They're kind of exhibiting
this indecision.

But at 1.1

of 'em just leaps in and then they
all jump in, you know, but the flow

quickly takes them, you know, and,
and most of them get out, but one

gets washed down like a hundred yards.

And we're, you know, us
watching we're like, oh my gosh,

did, did that puppy make it?

Did it just, did we literally
just watch this puppy drowned.

And, you know, pretty soon out comes
this pup onto the far side of the bank

and it just, in that beautiful morning
light, it shakes off and there's just

this prismatic spl you just spray of,
of fractured light that, that sort

of heralded, this youngster making
it, getting back with its siblings.

Whew.

Boy, that was a big deal.

Hope we don't have to do that again.

So they made it through
the second big obstacle.

Then they came to the third,
which was even bigger.

Yet it was the Lamar River.

And even in mid-summer throughout
most of the history, that is still at

high water or at least higher water
than normal as far as the year goes.

So per crossing the creek, the adults
take them to the Ford of the river.

And as they're standing there, the
adults, you know, sort of survey,

got all the pups it seems like, and
they stride out across the flow.

They make it to the other side and they
look back and all at once, this one black

pup just says, to hell with this, this
is a fool's errand if I've ever seen one.

And it starts walking up its side of the
river upstream and all the other pups

join it, and you can, you know, totally
anthropomorphizing, but there's something

within the wolves that you, you know, you
can feel that, okay, this isn't working.

But to me it was like G kids, you
know, like we've all had that, you

know, it's like you're trying to
shuttle them from point A to B and

they get stuck with friends or you
know, the dandelion next to the path

and come on, I have an agenda for you.

And it just wasn't working.

So back across the river, the adults
went, they gather up the puppies,

they bring 'em back to the Ford,
they cross again, they turn, look

back, and off the pups go again.

And this went on and on until they
start, they start moving up around

a, a bend of the river to the point
where we can't see them anymore.

So we don't know.

What's going on in the 10 minutes goes
by, 15, half hour, 45 minutes goes by,

and at some point, all of a sudden we
see one wolf head, a second wolf head

above the sage brush, and then they start
moving into where we can see them better.

And behind them are all five pups.

They made it.

And so then they trundled on across
the valley to their traditional

rendezvous site, which is kind of a,
a, a traditional gathering place, but

also a babysitting site for the pups to
start learning what it's like to live in

the Lamar Valley, the open, wild world.

But one of the most beautiful things
to me that ties into that comment

you made about how this is such a
statement on motherhood is every time

she went back to get those pups, she
would pick up something in her mouth.

Sometimes it, it was a rock, like
literally would pick up a rock with her

teeth or a stick, and she would take
that around to each one of the puppies

as if to say, I've got something for you.

You, you want it?

This is really good.

Do you want it?

You know, I, I've done this with
my own son, with gummy worms to get

him to the top of the mountains.

Right.

He's just like learning from the wolf.

I would never use such a bribe.

Okay.

Yeah, yeah.

You gotta gotta lure you along somehow
with something that, that takes

your mind off of this, this hurdle.

And, and she did it, this wisdom
within this mother of seeing so many

difficulties and successes, bringing
that all to bear around this vital task

of cultivating the next generation of
hunters, of soldiers, of caregivers.

And she did it in spades.

It was just, it still is so
touching to me that story.

And as it turned out, she was killed
by another wolf pack later in the year.

So this would be her last litter of
puppies that she would ever have.

And listening to Wolf 21, her mate, how
and how and how for her that February was.

I can still hear it.

And I think to me, the sculptures, the
viewing, the book, the, all these things

are just excuses to try to peel back,

what did that mean for me?

What did that mean Then
what does it mean to me now?

What, what does that teach us?

And that's nature to me.

It's infinite.

It is,

it is freedom.

It is joy.

It is obligation.

It's tragedy.

It's, it's, it's everything you can
possibly imagine rolled into one.

And it gives us, it just
gives us inspiration,

perspective, options, and yeah.

I start running outta words.

It just, the vastness.

That's why I went to

Rupert Isaacson: words.

Don't cut it.

Yeah.

It it, it's so interesting that we are
all animals vocalize or many of them do.

We have this larynx so you know.

Mm-hmm.

They call us homo sapien sapiens.

But that's just means the thinking ape.

That's everything with a brain
thinks there's nothing special

to humans about thinking.

But we do speak.

George Bumann: Mm-hmm.

Rupert Isaacson: So were the ultra
vocalists and yet words fail us.

If you made it this far into the podcast,
then I'm guessing you're somebody

that, like me, loves to read books
about not just how people have achieved

self actualization, but particularly
about the relationship with nature.

Spirituality, life, the
universe, and everything.

And I'd like to draw your
attention to my books.

If you would like to read the story
of how we even arrived here, perhaps

you'd like to check out the two New
York Times bestsellers, The Horseboy

and The Long Ride Home, and come on an
adventure with us and see what engendered,

what started Live Free Ride Free.

And before we go back to the
podcast, also check out The Healing

Land, which tells the story of.

My years spent in the Kalahari with the
Sun, Bushmen, hunter gatherer people

there, and all that they taught me, and
mentored me in, and all that I learned.

Come on that adventure with me.

George Bumann: That's why I returned
to art, honestly, Rupert, that I felt

so much from this place when I let,
when I gave into it and quit asking

myself, is this my career trajectory?

Am I supposed to do this?

Is this gonna help my resume?

Is this all that bullshit?

I just let go.

You experience things that
you will never expect.

You know, there is a time when I would
be working on a black bear sculpture,

let's say, and I would be just, you know,
driving, you know, striving to find that

black bear so I could finish the sculpture
as I often do outside in the field.

And I'd never find the bear.

But when I let go, I'd bring the sculpture
in case I saw the bear, I would see

the moose with her fawn or her calf.

I would see the badger feeding.

Its young.

I'd find all these other things that
I could not have possibly planned that

were so infinitely better than what I
thought I should be doing and finding.

And that's not just
for wildlife sightings.

This is, this is for my day.

Like, oh my gosh, what am I gonna do?

I'm so sick and tired of office
work and staring at this screen.

My wife and I say, 10 minutes.

10 minutes.

It's always worth it.

Okay, I can do 10 minutes.

And of course, you end up spending an
hour 'cause the ants lead you over to

this trail that they've made that goes
under the, the log over there and then

the, then this, a bull snake takes off
from there and you can see where it's

trying to check out where the, the
magpie nest is or the the robin Nest.

And it just takes you out of that
world that you've built around yourself

and just helps you chill out, man.

Like, look around, enjoy, relax, breathe.

And we're the better for it.

But it just seems so hard sometimes.

Rupert Isaacson: Well, I think
you talk about sound soundscapes

and that sound really brought you
in to this wild place, and that

by learning sounds and what sounds
might mean we can learn so much more

about what's around us and back to
the way we, our species make sound

George Bumann: mm-hmm.

Rupert Isaacson: Is we
make it through story.

I, I've been, and I've been lucky enough
to live with koan, bushman, hunter

gatherers in, in the Kalahari boat.

That's actually how I know Greg and
through that work and so on and, and

story's everything, story's the hunt.

It's the gathering, but it's healing.

Particularly what story is, is healing.

And we're funky monkeys.

We're sort of half bonobo, half
love and peace and love making and

flowers and Jefferson airplane.

And we are half chimpanzee, gangster
up, gonna rip fucking head off.

And how do we bring these two
sides of ourselves together?

And of course, in a wild human context.

We have the shaman, we have the
healer at the center of the culture.

And what is that?

But story, you know, you bring your you
bring your dilemma doesn't have to be

an ailment to the healer and the healer.

That's a story.

And then the healer goes into
the spirit world, goes into an

altered set of consciousness and
goes and talks to our ancestors.

Or he talks about climbing a rope.

That's very interesting.

Earlier, poked up my ears because all
the good healers I met in the Kalahari

talked about climbing the rope to
God's village when they're in trance

and seeing this great interconnected
web that they climb and then they get

a series of instructions and then they
bring that back and create a new story.

And then you go out into that new story.

Now there you are in that wild area.

But one of the things which I think we all
feel to some degree in the US unless we're

living in a place like New Mexico where
there's a really, really strong indigenous

culture where the people who are always
on the land are still on the land,

there's often a sense of are,
but the people are missing.

And this idea of pristine wilderness,
we know is a complete illusion.

There were always people there that
people got cleared out to make.

To make it a national park.

It's the same, same story
in Africa, by the way.

Mm-hmm.

And of course when we go into the
city where we say there is no wild,

as you pointed out earlier, we're
surrounded by the wild in the city.

We are of the place, but yet when
we go into a place like Yellowstone,

because the original people, the
Nez PEs as you, as you pointed

out, they're not there anymore.

And there's a pretty
thorough going genocide.

Yeah.

You know, we gotta call it what it is.

And I'm a product of the colonial
experience myself, my family

are South Africans and Yeah.

Yeah.

I mean, we all participated, our
ancestors all participated in this.

And we are tame people now and
we go into the wild for healing.

But that story, that wild
story is still there for us.

Mm-hmm.

Do you, this is more speculative now,
but as you go forward into the next

phase, you've written this really
good book, you do this amazing art.

You take people into the wilderness,
you help them to interpret what they

see you, you help people to heal
themselves in the stressful city

by noticing the wild around them.

Where are we going?

As a species with this,
we're going more into ai.

We're go, you know, you go to a
place like Yellowstone, but the

original people, they're not there.

One could say that's a
very pessimistic thing.

Then you talk about nature gives you
options and I take that as optimism.

And there have actually been a lot of
recent and I've, I've been involved in

some of them as a human rights activist.

Big wins by indigenous people
in the last 30 years as almost

like a slowly rumbling moment.

Momentum that from the old days of
just wipe 'em out to build McDonald's.

You know, to now know indigenous
people are beginning to get the

land back and change things.

And what else is wiped out,
say from yellow and the wolves

eradicated at their back.

Back.

George Bumann: Yeah.

Rupert Isaacson: Are we as a

George Bumann: species, rewilding

some of us are not enough.

Really that's why I spent three
and a half years on this book.

I just certainly could have done far
better things with three and a half years.

But I saw how transformative
the experience of wildness.

Was for people, you know, tens of
thousands of folks I've had the

pleasure of sharing Yellowstone with.

And you see the reaction and you feel it
because you felt it yourself that they

are not gonna be able to articulate this,
but by God, they sure as hell felt it.

And I, it gives me great solace to
see those indigenous cultures bringing

back some ownership and say, over
the land, because God's sake, sure as

hell in the US the dollar rules the
United States of America incorporated.

But in those indigenous cultures
that remain, there still is

that baked in understanding.

You know, we're very smart, we
made ai, we do all these kinds of

things, but we're not really wise.

Should we do that?

What aren't we doing that we should?

And within those cultures
is that consult of the land?

Is this good for the seventh
generation of everybody?

Not just people, but is
this good for the land?

Is this good for the water?

Is this good for the air?

And will these kinds of touchpoints
with nature and wildness in our own

wild within be enough to counter that?

I don't know.

I'm pretty pessimistic myself, but
what I really do believe in is that

it is through the story that we will
leave a legacy of what is good and true

for those generations that manage to
persist after whatever happens, happens.

I don't feel like I honestly contribute
that much, but if I can for someone

pass on something that gives them joy,
that helps them through tough times,

it makes them bust out laughing when
they're at their worst and think to look

to that squirrel who's got half a tail
and think, I still got my tail at least,

then that will be a contribution.

My grandfather was a master storyteller.

And he would never have said that, but I
watched it and I knew it from a young age.

I would, I would ride my bicycle
to the museum that he helped start.

And it covered local history in that
part of New York from 10,000 years to

basically the pre well to world to war.

What town was that and what's the museum?

It's called the Fort
Brewerton Historical Society.

And it was built on the grounds of a a,
a very early European owned basically

home and trading place, but it was
on the site of a French and Indian

war embattlement and, and campsite
not campsite, but a fortifications.

Mm-hmm.

Still one of the most well preserved in,
in all of that region, but he, you know,

it covered everything from the paleo
Indian culture 10,000 years ago, all the

way up through the, you know, woodland
periods and the explorer periods, and

Father Le Moine and Samuel Champlain
and Civil War and Revolutionary War.

All these connections to that place
that I grew up hearing these stories

when we were on the boat fishing.

You know, I could picture in my mind,
sir William Johnson in the beau coming

across a Iida Lake to lay siege to
the French forces in their Huron

companions to the north and west.

I, I lived with those stories
and see them in my mind as real

as I see the bobber drop when a.

A perch bites.

And I would watch him tell
these stories to other people.

And even in the span of 10 to 20 minutes,
he would, the people would change.

You would see their energetic
signature, if you will, elevated,

altered, arguably improved.

And the, the time that brought
it to me most, that almost still

brings me to tears, was he'd
always wanted to go to Alaska

and he never made it.

So for his 75th birthday, our
family pooled all their resources

and bought he, myself and my uncle,
his son, a ticket to go to Alaska.

And it was a cruise, so it was
like totally not my way to do it.

Probably not his either.

I'm pretty damn sure of it.

But we went anyway.

It was a wonderful opportunity to
be all together, the three of us.

And as you often do, you sit at the same
table every night with the same people.

And just my grandfather being my, his
himself would tell stories every day.

And at that table was a co, a couple
from Cardiff Wales and there was a

couple from Mexico City and their
adult daughter, MBE was her name.

And he would just tell stories.

And the, the couple from Mexico
City did not speak any English.

The daughter would have to
fragmentary, translate the stories

to them from my grandfather.

And the tour came to a close
and NBE pulled me aside right

before we said our last goodbyes.

And she said, I wanted you to know
your grandfather's stories were

the highlight of my father's trip.

And they didn't even share a language.

And yet this mystique, this power, this,
you could almost say shamanistic ability

to transcend time and space for the
betterment of now was in full effect.

I never forgot that.

And I think more than anything, the story
gives me hope that those, those good and

true things about our world, principally
underpinned by the natural world, will

persist as we have to tell the story.

Mm.

We have to tell it again and again.

And even to people who don't
get it and don't want to hear

it, we have to tell it again.

We have to learn to tell it in
different ways that are appealing

and do get a foot in the door
because we have to tell the story.

That's really all we have.

Money's nothing.

If you invest your most precious
resource, your time in something, I

feel you are obligated to tell that
story, to share with the village

what you have learned so that they
too can stand upon your shoulders

as much as you've stood on theirs.

It,

Rupert Isaacson: it's, I've just been
thinking, you know, there you are.

In, when, when you were growing up
in upstate New York, by the way,

Fort Burton or Burton, did you say?

Brewerton, BR Eton, we're
gonna look that Fort Brewerton.

I was busily trying to look up
Burton or Brewerton while you

were talking to see what, what
Brewerton French and Indian Wars.

Yes.

The English and the French battling it
out for who would get control of the fur

trade before America was minerals and

George Bumann: Yes,

Rupert Isaacson: even agricultural wealth.

And using the Indians to do
their fight and call them

George Bumann: Indians
all the way through.

Mm-hmm.

Rupert Isaacson: Then these stories
taking place against a wild, natural

backdrop, whether it was then in the
18th century or whether it was your

grandfather founding the historical
society and helping to create that museum,

or against that backdrop of Alaska.

We've been telling stories since
we have been on the planet.

It occurs to me as you were saying,
that the, the same animals, the same

ravens, the same wolves, the same foxes
have been observing us, as you say,

and listening to us tell our stories.

George Bumann: Mm-hmm.

Rupert Isaacson: Do you ever get a sense

that

they know we are, they
are in our stories and

are we in theirs?

Yes.

George Bumann: To both.

Rupert Isaacson: Talk to me about that.

What's been your experience?

George Bumann: Sometimes the
story is told to ourselves,

and I think I.

Sort of alluded to that, that change in
the e energetics of, of an individual

in contact with story, it shifts us into
a place or a plane or, I don't know.

I don't have words for it.

I know it when I feel
it, that makes us open.

So I talk to animals, not thinking
they will understand me in the words

I use, but they will get my meaning.

And indigenous cultures around the globe
say this, you know, you, you talk to

the animals and they will talk back.

And I don't make the animal
noises when I'm in the field.

I wanna make very clear about that.

It's illegal in Yellowstone.

But even outside of that, my own ethical
boundaries, I do not imitate them.

I used to do it for hunting,
and I would again, if I hunted,

Rupert Isaacson: is
that how you learned it?

Because they're so good?

George Bumann: Yes.

That's where I started.

It was I learned to hunt deer
and turkeys and ducks and geese.

I figured out how to call beavers of
all things in order to hunt them, but

it didn't get me closer to them in
the way that we're talking about here.

So I keep my mouth closed.

If I imitate the raven in the
field, I do it under my breath

because even if I'm not making the
sound, we all learn differently.

We learn not just with our mind.

We learn.

With our soma, the, the
summation of our body.

Our, our, our entirety is a learning tool.

It's an antenna, a
receiver, and a projector.

A transmitter.

And so when I'm out there I've heard
indigenous folks that I know here say

that they, the animals respond to them
when they speak their native language.

But I've sort of done some of my
own ad hoc experiments with just

speaking English, my native tongue.

And I think I encourage others to do
that because you don't make eye contact.

Like with a lot of indigenous cultures,
it's important that you don't look

your fellow interlocutor in the eye.

That's rude.

It's a provocation.

But you speak into the space
that you share and they hear you.

They get your intentions,
they get your motives.

They understand whether
they are safe or not.

Great example is we just, my son and I
walked our dog, he's, he just had knee

surgery, so we aren't going very far,
but we went down the driveway, which is

two tenths of a mile long, but we went
to the end and on the way back in those

few minutes, an entire herd of elk.

Walked across the driveway
and were occupying and feeding

the place that we had to walk
through to get back to the house.

They were all almost all around the house.

So what do you do?

You know, like most people would hoo hoo
get the, get outta here like we do with

the seagulls on the beach, or you know,
the pigeons are defiling the sidewalk,

get outta here, blah, blah, blah.

Well, you're, you're being tallied, you
are being observed, you're being received.

You are, your behavior
is being remembered.

Pigeons, colom, Bolivia, the rock dove.

It can remember hundreds if not
thousands of people's faces and

know who's naughty and who's nice.

And through the behavior of one
another, and watching that so

closely, others get the message having
never had an encounter with you.

So our approach is what a, another mutual
friend of John and I or ex Craig and I,

John Young calls the honoring routine.

So when you run into an animal or herd,
or he's this great example of running

into a group of geese and they need to
get to the other side of where these geese

are just like we had to cross through.

Where the elk were is you walk
until you see them take notice and

you don't look, but you stay for a
moment and you respect their space.

You might even back up.

You might fiddle with some sticks or
take your attention off of them, but that

initial contact lets them know you have a
directive, but I'm only gonna ex exercise

this directive if you give me permission.

We don't ask as human
beings, for the most part.

We just take, and we don't worry
about the collateral damage.

If you really want the relationship,
you have to be willing to give.

And that might just be simple as giving
space, giving a minute of your time.

But what that does is George and I,
young George and Hobbes, our black

Labrador stopped and we turned around.

So we were facing away from them
and they went back to feeding.

Could see it out of the corner of my eye.

And after a moment or two letting
them do that relaxed, I turned

around again and I walked.

And this time they let me go a
little further and I repeated, I

turned around, I turned my gaze away.

I talked to them.

Sorry, it's cold out.

We needed to get back to the house.

We don't have as good a fur as you do.

We're, we're gonna be patient though.

We'll be right here.

If you, if you want us to wait
a little bit longer, wander

backwards, noodle with a few things.

We did this a couple times and just
like with John's example of the geese,

they, they, the, the sea parted.

The geese parted the elk, parted
the one that was in the driveway

that really didn't wanna move.

We gave her a little more time, but
she too just took enough steps off to

the, the western side of the driveway.

There was enough room
for us to go through,

and you don't, I've done this with bison.

He had a school group and it's this huge
herd of bison we couldn't get through.

I was like, listen, kids,
this is how we're gonna do it.

No pictures, no eye
contact with the animals.

Follow these rules to the T and they
let you write through and thank them.

It's, it's a, it's a conversation that's
communicated without, without sound in

that case, but it is very clearly received
and acted upon and that that reciprocity

of, you know, all told that elk incident,
it cost us maybe five minutes, like

all of us can spare five minutes.

Because the beauty of what comes
outta that now is that group of elk

remembers us and the next time we
don't have to play that much of a game.

They let us right through.

We've had deer and fawns, deer, mothers
with fawns that would let me walk

with our two black labs before Hobbes.

I would, as a gesture of,
of my responsibility to the.

Relationship.

I put my hand on their shoulders.

They weren't on leash,
but they were healed.

I put my hand on their shoulders
to demonstrate that we're all in

this and we're all gonna behave.

And there are times we could walk
within 10 feet of her and the fawns.

Mm-hmm.

That's, that's, you know, you see
people, people think that's magic.

It's not magic.

It's honoring the relationship
across a species boundary.

And that's where the real beauty really
is, is when you see them respond in kind.

It just my heart beams.

Hmm.

And I can't help but think
that they appreciate it too.

Oh, without a

Rupert Isaacson: doubt.

You know, whether animals
are domestic or, or wild.

You know, my, my horses, I have a
heard of seven horses and so today I

was going to work with one horse and
my horses have a professional life.

You know, they, they work with autistic
children and they also work with

teaching people how to do dressage.

And they're good, you know,
professional attitude.

George Bumann: Yeah.

Rupert Isaacson: But I try to honor

their choice.

I.

So I went out to catch Boo slus and
he just looked at me and went, nah.

Trotted off to the far end of the pasture,
lay down with his back to me and very sort

of emphatically put himself on the, I was
like, all right, not today, no problem.

But 10 years ago I would have
insisted, I would have said,

but through the process with my
oldest son who's autistic and the

relationship that he formed with a
horse called Betsy, I realized I had

to completely rethink everything that
I knew and that agency was everything.

Mm-hmm.

Because I was going to now
rely, absolutely rely on this

horse and all subsequent horses
to when the stakes are high.

I have my son in front of me in
the saddle, or someone else's

autistic child in the saddle.

I had to know that in that moment
the horse was really with me.

So where before I would've, I
would, was brought up with the,

you have to make him do it.

You have to be the dominant one.

You have to do it.

That was the old school.

I realized that that had
to be completely abandoned.

George Bumann: Yeah.

Rupert Isaacson: And the moment
I started giving Choice and

agency, the give back was bananas.

What my horses will do for me now when
they know I need it, but if they know I

don't really need it, they'll be like,
well, maybe I'll, maybe I So true.

You know, you, you, and you're so
right with, with, with the, you

know, because say with the, the elk
herd there, well, it's one thing to

demand they move, which could also
be a fear-based reaction, you know?

And you say, as you say, they're
clocking you, and that, oh, he's

a bit nervous of us, isn't he?

Which is different to honoring us.

Think to, okay.

We, there's a lot of us.

We're very, very big.

And yes, if I feel he's too close to
my calf, I might take a dip at him.

If you behave differently the next time
they're in your driveway, I would posit

there might be a chance one might take a
dip at you because you are not a friend.

But what you're saying
is, I, I am your friend.

I mean, no harm.

Um mm-hmm.

And this honoring thing in Mongolia,
you know, wrote across a chunk of

Mongolia with my autistic son when he
was five, going from shaman to shaman.

It was an extraordinary thing.

And, hmm.

The Mongolian word for the WildHorse,
what we call the prosky horse,

which was never tamed, is kin.

Which is honored one.

Revered one.

George Bumann: Hmm.

Rupert Isaacson: And this thing of
honoring into species, you talked about

our soma, our body being an antenna.

And so therefore it, it, it sends
out signals, it receives signals.

It's, we are all part of the
same electromagnetic field.

Right.

Horses, trees, whatever that
is a, that is a reality.

So you are absolutely sending out through
your electromagnetic field an intention

to animals that are so keenly aware
because they bloody well have to be.

'cause there might be a wolf
in the thicket or a bear.

They better have some things to rely on
beyond what we call the five sensors.

George Bumann: Yeah.

Without question,

Rupert Isaacson: is it possible to live
meaningfully without those extra senses?

And is it possible to get those extra
senses without interspecies relationship?

And in your book, is that what
you're trying to teach us?

George Bumann: Hmm.

I think those extra
senses are revealed to us.

They're in us all along.

We come like the elk, like the
wolf prepackaged for connection.

We come prepackaged for a
particular context, a place.

If anything in the book, I, I
really hope folks come to see.

They don't live in an address,
but they live of a place.

And our guides are these more than humans
who exceed us in so many capacities.

Yes, they can hear in
frequencies far beyond us.

Yes, some can see an ultraviolet light.

Yes.

'cause some can hear in sub sound,
some can smell in parts per billion

of things we don't know exist.

But we have superpowers too.

And those superpowers are most
keenly resurrected and put to

use in these natural contexts.

Does it help with people?

Absolutely.

You notice the discomfort in that woman
in the presence of that particular man.

You notice the child who flourishes
in the company of his grandmother.

There are unspoken things that,
that sift all through our world.

And the more than human world that
reinforce all of this in ways that, you

know, spoken language gets in the way.

A a a raven call is, is stupid.

And I don't mean to sound trite in
saying those things, but the sounds,

the listening, the using the senses
where we, where we just begin.

The relationships are the, the
stepping stone through the first door.

But there are no limited number of doors.

And I think your experiences with the
shamans, they, that is their world,

is the world beyond the obvious.

That's still underpins everything.

And, and I don't hear like I have
compromised hearing from guns.

You know, people think even just to
start, I need to have perfect hearing.

I need to have perfect vision.

And, and in the book I even talk
about folks with autism and, you know,

temple Grandin's work with animals.

They, they re they relate in ways
that neural normal people cannot, or

do not, those who can't smell or see
or hear or walk without their hip.

Screaming at them are limited in
those capacities, but we often

fail to realize that it opens other
doors that normal quote unquote

people don't even recognize exist.

You know, a friend of ours, he, he should
have hip surgery years ago, and they would

come to Yellowstone every year and they
would sit in their vehicle, he and his

wife, and she'd sometimes get out and walk
a little bit, but he just didn't get the

surgery, didn't get the surgery, didn't
think it would work, didn't, wouldn't

do what he wanted it to, but they would
sit and that quote unquote handicap,

you know, I think of our, our one friend
Shane Doyle, who's a crow tribal elder.

He says, in our culture,
there's no handicap.

Everyone is alternately able,

you know, and the, the Haudenosaunee
story of the, the muskrat saving the

world, or, or being the one who brings
the world into existence by grasping

that little bit of mud from way deeper
than anybody else could dive in the,

in the limitless sea, to put on the
turtle's back to begin everything.

Those insights and lessons and
successes are so often rooted in those

unexpected places and people, and beings

and, and those beings.

Reside within us.

I can't, I can't hear
above 8,000 hertz here.

I can get to about 14,000 here, but
it's not what you can and can't do.

It's what you do with what you can do.

It's what you do with
the sounds you can hear.

I could eclipse other birders in finding
warblers and even some that made these

high pitched sounds because I listened
better to the sounds I could hear.

And that was a gift that nature gave me.

Rupert Isaacson: As we move towards the,
the, the close of this, and I hope this is

just the first of several conversations,
I would love to have you back on, to

go more deeply into this, although
I'm also not gonna let you out of here

without hearing how you call a beaver.

So many jokes.

Oh, yes.

But have you, I dunno if you've
ever been to Detroit, but there's

a, there's a famous exit of the
freeway by there called Beaver 69.

And when I was lucky enough to spend
some time with the Cree up in northern

Quebec when they were fighting off
hydro Quebec who was gonna flood their

land and they were actually successful.

And I ate a lot of beaver and

yes you did.

And I presume that's probably
why you were hunting them too.

Let's just go back to your book because I
want people to go out and buy your book.

Take us into a last story from there
that will help bring our listeners who,

yeah, I, I wrote down this word while
you were talking about the healing power

of nature and so on and perspective.

And the word that came to my mind
is, or a WE and whether it was

you with the elk, you with
the wolf, you with the

ravens bouncing like popcorn, whether
it's me this afternoon saying to my

horse, you know what, if you don't want
to, no problem, and, and look at you,

you, so that allows me to see him in
that moment, not just as this horse I'm

going to wear, but oh my God, you're
the most amazing, beautiful animal.

Look at you, look at you.

You are awe, I mean, awe of you.

You put me in perspective.

I'm small compared to you and
you're beautiful compared to me.

And I think that's the power of your book.

That, and we talked about mental health
and you know, there, there's, there's data

now showing that even if you're living in,
you know, the most non-natural environment

in your, all depressed, in your.

If you watch a wildlife documentary,
your body begins to respond very, very

similarly to if you were in nature.

The subconscious doesn't much care
whether it's simulator and, and maybe

VR will help us in this way, you know,
at least we can get back to nature.

Who knows?

Who knows?

Who knows?

Maybe that's where AI will help us.

But I feel that a book like
yours gives one that sense of

awe and that sense of it healing.

So give us one more story.

George Bumann: Hmm.

Well, first thank you for that
and thank you for having me on.

It's been a real treat to be able to share
what is, you know, our day to day doesn't

seem that special sometimes, but each
of us hold within our own hands, within

our ears, within our eyes, our minds.

These diamonds in the rough and those
gems are, as you say, and I agree,

they, they, they are the embodiment
of the awe that you find when you

just open up to what comes in.

One day I'd had it with the office.

You know, we run a fair bit of,
I have a online course on animal

language, and we run an online summit
on Yellowstone topics, you know, so

folks around the world can tune in you.

Many of these things, because of our age,
are very, you know, very office screen

to do phone oriented and yeah, I'm living

Rupert Isaacson: in Yellowstone,
staring at a screen.

George Bumann: Yeah,
yeah, yeah, absolutely.

We, we are not made to, to operate on
this wavelength, and yet this is how we

connect and tell the story these days.

And I'd had it, I was done.

I just, and often my wife will see
it before I do, or the dog does.

Like, you need to go for a walk.

Well, you did get out.

Yeah, exactly.

Go out now.

I think it'd be wise for you to go now.

And one day, I, I went out for a
walk and I, I write about this one

in the book because it, it to me
leaves the breadcrumbs to what I

feel is one of the highest order

experiences of that awe.

And instead of just going in and
sitting or just going and walking,

I did what was, what you could
say was just an extended stand.

That slightly moved.

And what I mean by that is,
I, I went into the lower yard.

I do that sometimes after five points.

Yeah.

But yes, and that's
kind of the way it felt.

You know, I went into the lower yard
and I was gonna walk, I was gonna go do

something uhhuh, and what I realized is
what I needed most was to be something.

Mm-hmm.

And I just stood there and
I just let the senses go.

You know, there's a jet flying over,
the breeze is coming in this way.

Oh no.

It, it actually is swirling back from
that direction, the sunshine, it's

hitting the back of my neck right here.

The grasses are blowing in front of me,
you know, just absorbing these patterns.

And every once in a while, every
few minutes, I would just take

half a step, a full step, maybe.

And by the time I don't know how long it
was, an hour, hour and a half had passed,

I'd gone maybe 20 feet, 30 feet tops.

And whatever happened

clearly shifted the dynamic of
how I existed in that space.

And I, I don't really know how
to articulate it beyond that.

But as I was standing
there, this song, Sparrow.

It drops in like almost over my shoulder
and it lands in the ryegrass in front

of me, and it's almost at my feet.

And it's gnashing on this ryegrass seed.

Like, you know, in the book I described
as, it's kinda like that country diner,

you know, and everybody's in their locals
drinking coffee and they got the plastic,

you know, coffee stir and they're just
chewing on it, like a piece of grass or

something in the corner of the mouth.

And it's just, it's just living, it's
doing its thing completely ignoring me.

To me, that is one of the most

beautiful, privileged positions to
be in, in nature is to be forgotten.

Ignored, overlooked.

Allowed.

Allowed.

Exactly.

And I felt different.

It was, it was just like, it was not quite
like I had too many pints, but it kind

of smacked of an altered, just, just,
it was like all the senses were on high

functioning independently, but in unison.

And I was, I just felt so relaxed.

It was beautiful.

It was just like having a, a killer
massage or you know, a soak in the hot

tub after long day and my phone went off.

Of course the alarm clock went off
and I was like, geez, god dammit.

You know, like here, I just like, oh, you
know, I've ascended to this, you know,

altered state of, of consciousness and the
phone rings, you know, the alarm says, get

back to the office, dummy and I, I smacked
the phone from outside my pocket and it

shuts off and I begrudgingly turn around.

I start slowly walking back up the steps
past the greenhouse toward the house.

And there's three, is it three or four?

Three or four black build mag pies.

They're a member of the
Crow and Jay family.

Just like the, the raven is, but they
don't like being around people at all.

You know, if you feed them, yeah.

It's like the, the gal with
the crows that, that you get to

watch, they'll snuggle up to you.

But in my mind I do, I we don't
feed, the reason I don't feed is

I don't want our wild neighbors
to be engaged in prostitution.

I don't want our relationship to be
predicated on something they absolutely

can't do without, for us to be together,
it has to be built on trust first.

And without that it's, I.

To me, not worth it.

That's a whole nother topic into itself.

After that you

Rupert Isaacson: can have the

George Bumann: prostitution.

Sorry, I couldn't.

Yeah, exactly.

I don't wanna, then we can, I don't, yeah.

I don't want to pay them in the currency.

They need to pay, you
need to hang out with me.

You know?

'cause when you run out, if it's like
training a dog or training a horse, if

you're, if you're just training them a
treats, they, they train to get the treat.

They don't give a care about you.

Right.

You run outta snacks.

You're, you're old news now.

Mm-hmm.

So we didn't feed these mag pies.

Neighbors didn't feed them.

They're always around.

Every time we go for
a walk, they're there.

They,

and they're usually gone.

If you surprise them, the
closest usually you ever get is

30 yards, 40 yards, 50 yards.

Usually if it's an open and
they're gone, they take off.

They are not hanging around with humans.

Not any of you walking around
on two legs outta here.

Sorry buddy.

Not trusting you.

And oddly enough, that day as I walked
past the garage, these three mag pies

were right next to the sidewalk that
I had to walk on to go into the house.

They just stayed there.

So, but I was, I dunno,
I, I don't know why.

I just felt like I could keep going.

So I took another couple steps and they
stayed there and I took a couple more.

A few more until literally
Rupert, I was standing over them.

This is a position they
never would concede to.

I'm standing over them.

I can hear these tiny little
sounds that they're making,

you know, this, this little,

the sounds that you, you can't hear
if you're more than five feet away.

Like we've heard 'em outside
the window and other times

where we could be that close.

Never when you're out and about,

I can see what they're
picking at in the grass.

The food that they're selecting.

They're moving away the, the grass blades
and twigs and little pebbles, and, and

they're all, you know, they were, if I
fell over, I would've fallen on them.

And yet they were pretending, acting,
carrying on as if I didn't even exist.

Very mysterious, very puzzling.

And then at once, I had this thought
of, wow, nobody's gonna believe this.

And in that instant, I didn't move.

I didn't make a sound, but
every single one of them looked

right up at me and took off.

And after that point, I, I was
like, what the hell was that?

You know, I, they landed on the
fence post, which, or the fence

railings across the driveway,
which was maybe 20 yards away.

So I, I just started walking toward them.

They weren't having it.

They flew another 50 or 80 yards
further, and I walked, you know,

to the fence and they just, they
were outta there completely.

What was that?

I i

was that the state that the,

the elemental human really exists in?

Did they not even see me?

Like I, you try to rationalize things
like this, yet at the same time, it only

takes a mere few seconds of an experience
like that to really draw into question

what you conceive of as, as reality.

What, what else is possible here?

What was that relationship?

What, I don't know.

I have ideas, I guesses, but I have to ask
a shaman, because it was so transcendent,

it was so imbued with a sense of awe that.

I can't look at those mag pies
even from a distance and see

them the same way I did before.

My notion of them has been transformed
and a bunch, you know, from smaller,

less profound experiences before
that we every encounter changes the

relationship a little bit better.

I love, you know, John
Craig and i's friend.

John Young talks about his time with
Thesal Bushman and that every time

we encounter an animal, a specific
individual, a thread grows between us.

You probably know this story, right?

And the next time you see them, that
thread turns into a thin string and

the next time it's a rope, and the
next time it's a cord, and then a rope.

And, and until you have these
solid ropes of connection to

everything around you and it,

you are stopping before you walk
out the front door to see who's

there enough to exit slowly.

Mm-hmm.

So that you don't blow out the
door and blast everybody out.

Like every normal human you
take on a different approach.

Slowly open the door, leave it open as
you look out, let the animals see you.

Let them go back to what they were doing.

Take one step to the threshold and wait.

They go back to what they're
doing, take another, and pretty

soon you're in their company.

Mm-hmm.

And that's very powerful.

Very, very powerful.

And all of us can do it anywhere, anytime.

It just takes a few moments
of our retirement attention.

Rupert Isaacson: Well, I feel your book

helps us

to enter that shamanic state a
bit, and I think that's one of

the great gifts of nature writing.

It draws our attention back to the wild
and it draws our subconscious back to the

wild, and it draws our souls back to where
we know we've lost since we became tame.

And with each telling of a story like
that, and each reminder that it's possible

George Bumann: mm-hmm.

Rupert Isaacson: To step
back over that bridge.

In fact, all it takes is intention

and we're right there because we're
the same species we ever were.

George Bumann: Absolutely.

Rupert Isaacson: But it's good
to be reminded, and as you

say, if we are not reminded.

Even those of us that know and value this,

we, we slip so easily into poor
mental health basically for

those generations coming up.

Now, if they're not reminded,
if the cycle of storytelling is

broken, how will they value that?

Which we are supposed to not
just protect, but upon which we

rely for our very sustenance.

George Bumann: Mm-hmm.

Rupert Isaacson: So when you make,
when you write a book like keeps

dropping on animals, when you create
the arc that you create, let alone

when you take people into the wild,

you remind us

to care for ourselves.

Because to care for the wild is to
care for ourselves and to forget it and

denigrate it and destroy it is to do
the same thing to destroy ourselves.

But we might not even know that
because we're so growing up in

families that are so, cultures that
are so long divorced from the wild.

So every contribution that you make,

so listeners.

He's dropping on animals and buy one for a
friend, especially if you've got a friend

that's not having much access right now.

In return, George will now call a viva.

George Bumann: I suppose I should fess up.

So the beaver is also all a
very social creature as well.

So if you learn to sound like another
beaver you stand a chance of having a

very close encounter with the keto are.

And most commonly and most
attractive to them is the sound

of chewing someone else dining.

Ah.

And so if you can imitate the sound
of them doing this corn cob, like

chewing of the bark off of a twig

and they roll it,

you can often call them
up right up to you.

Wow.

Hide though.

Hide.

So they can't see that
you're not another beaver.

But you will, you'll be surprised.

Roll the.

Yep.

Rupert Isaacson: Well, listen,
George, it's been a real treat.

I've been transported.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Will you come on again?

There's a lot of other questions
I'd like to ask happily.

George Bumann: Yeah.

Rupert Isaacson: What I'm thinking
we should do is we should, we should

actually have a little three-way
panel with you, me and Craig.

Oh, that would be fun.

Which means I just get to hang
out basically with you and Craig.

Very cool.

Well, I'd love, you can
call beavers together.

George Bumann: There you go.

We'll, we'll be a colony unto ourselves
and maybe draw some others in.

Yeah.

Rupert Isaacson: So listeners, if,
if, if you fancy the sound of that,

we will see if we can do a Craig call.

Have two,

George Bumann: what would that be?

What's the sound of a,
a, an octopus suction cup

popping off?

Rupert Isaacson: Yes.

Or, or, or, or the sound of sea
lice crawling over a forearm.

That thousand, the stuff that
man puts himself through.

George Bumann: Mm.

The bark of a Cape Clawless Otter.

Rupert Isaacson: That's right.

The feeling of kelp wrapping itself
around your lower calf when there's

a great white closing in on you.

That's a very wi with, with the water
at sort of Sub-Zero temperatures.

That's a very Craig type of situation.

And yes, it is.

George Bumann: Well, I would be up for it.

It's not often and that we get to have
these kind of conversations and, and

certainly not frequently enough then that
are in ways that others can benefit to.

So count me in.

Rupert Isaacson: So tell me
before we, before we depart this

time, how do people find you?

George Bumann: Sure.

They can find me at for the art.

You can see my website
at george bauman.com.

Bauman rhymes with human, it's
spelled B as in boy, U-M-A-N-N.

And my wife and I have a lifestyle blog
about our, our life here at the edge of

Yellowstone called a yellowstone life.com.

And at present, if you are already a,
a Yellowstone aficionado or would like

to be, we're working on the fourth
annual Yellowstone Summit, which is

an online event for anyone around the
world to hear from the world's leading

experts on all the neat things about
this place@yellowstonesummit.com.

When will that be?

The event goes live on the
20th of February this month.

Oh.

Soon.

And run through the 23rd very soon.

So we're in the throes of finalizing
speaker material programs.

We have prerecorded and live sessions.

We have everything from geology, ecology,
animal behavior, photography, trip

planning, geo you know, geothermal things.

We actually have a, a classical musical, a
classical music composer who's in, created

some works based on his time guiding
into the back country of Yellowstone

this year to to feature this year.

So a nice variety of topics, the
arts literature, and to really

give people a well rounded feel
for, for the awe of, of this place.

Rupert Isaacson: Sounds like an insane
amount of work putting that together.

It totally

George Bumann: is.

Sounds like it's ridiculous.

My wife is really at the center of it
and it's solid four or five months of the

year to put this together and Oh, sure.

She's a rock star when it comes to that.

So

Rupert Isaacson: that sounds
like a wonderful thing to attend.

An absolute nightmare to put together.

Yeah,

George Bumann: but it's so rewarding
'cause you know, from our two and a

half decades of giving and organizing
education programs, who here we know.

So many of these people doing things
that are off the charts amazing

that you would never know about.

Sometimes you might in the academic
literature or park films or programs

of that nature, but there's folks
who are doing things that are so

incredible that unless you lived
here, you wouldn't know about them.

So it's, it's actually a real honor
for us to be able to put these folks up

on a pedestal for others to appreciate
in the ways that we love them.

And again, what's the web address for

Rupert Isaacson: people wanting

George Bumann: to

Rupert Isaacson: attend that?

Summit?

George Bumann: Yellowstone summit.com.

And they can too.

They can buy the pass and watch later.

It's, you know, you can buy it after
the fact, but you, there's a little

price break if you get in early
and yeah, yellowstone summit.com.

It's a real, a real treat.

And it's, it's the kind of event
I wish I had around when we first

moved here, frankly, you know?

Rupert Isaacson: Yeah.

Creating the community,
the social hub that

George Bumann: you had to, yeah.

It's really part of the point is to
build that community of people who

love this place around the globe tribe.

Yep.

Rupert Isaacson: Totally.

And the book is Eavesdropping on Animals.

George Bumann: Eavesdropping on Animals.

You Can Get It in most places.

Books are sold in Europe and
Australia United States, Canada.

You can go to my website.

There's a link there that you can also
link through to, and get a copy there

or find out how to get one near you

Rupert Isaacson: and we
will have all the links.

In the blurb following this.

So it's all there if you have.

Well, thanks If you're driving, I
appreciate you helping spread the word.

Oh, of course.

That's valuable work.

George, it's been an absolute delight.

Thank you so much, my honor.

George Bumann: My pleasure.

I look

Rupert Isaacson: forward to the next time.

George Bumann: I as well.

Rupert Isaacson: I hope you enjoyed
today's conversation as much as I did.

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In the meantime, remember, live free.

Ride free.

He Speaks Raven – Talking to the Wild and Eavesdropping on Animals with George Bumann | EP 25 Live Free Ride Free
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