Or could it be that since the farmer was no longer tending to his farm because he was too old, and since there was so little going on there anymore, that the grouse decided to reclaim a great perch with a view?
I once pitched a tent somewhere in the deep forests of Sweden, on a trip with my mother and my sister. I sat the tent up on some natural cushions of dry peat, so the ground was nice and soft to sleep on. As it became darker I suddenly heard a large CRACK about fifty metres away as a big twig was snapped in half. The sound was followed by the deep sniffing of air and loud stomping, so I popped my head out of the tent to take look.
Atop the closest hill was the King of the Forest (that would be a moose), looking like he was pondering some deep mystery while on his evening stroll, his mighty antlers brushing away big branches like they were toothpicks. He wasn't too worried about his surroundings until he noticed my scruffy old head. He stopped dead quiet and opened his eyes wide in surprise. Then he snorted heavily in disappointment, like he was muttering a curse, and then he shuffled his heavy body around and walked the other way.
I got the distinct sense that this proud being had a very sincere distaste for people...
Seems even more possible to me that a grandmother can use something that's fascinating a kid to tell them about bad things looming. That's somehow enchanting the situation.
But why would a grouse, a shy wild bird, go smell some dying person inside a house and then fly onto the roof of the house to mark it out? It has no reason to care, and even less to stick around.
Why would it have evolved a response to communicate to a predator species that one of the predators living in a dwelling is going to die in a fashion that would expose itself to a large chance of becoming prey.
Here is a far simpler explanation. Our brains are evolved to find patterns even when they aren't there. Look how weak the correlation is. His family simply discarded all the times the correlation failed to apply and remembered the one time the bird cried not on the day his grandfather died but merely that same year.
I think I confused which feature they were talking about.
It’s far fetched maybe but dogs can smell Parkinson’s and cancer before the person develops medically detectable symptoms. So maybe not so far fetched.
Doesn’t have to be a pet. Doesn’t detect when the person will DIE of cancer, yet it shows up later.
Birds have been shown to return to the same locations if they fit their needs. Perhaps it was indicating an illness.
Far fetched but absence of evidence is not evidence of absence.
Statistics are not science. Science requires real world evidence and other animals offer at least some evidence they can detect fatal illness in advance.
Dogs are established to have an acute sense of smell along with a lifestyle where they live in close proximity to human beings and communicate with them.
Most birds and pheasants in particular have don't have as well developed a sense of smell as you do and aren't liable to be within 100 yards of people for long.
Even if they could smell impending disease why would they particularly seek out a high place to announce this and how on earth would you distinguish this from a call which announced it's desire to mate or warning about predators including yourself.
Birds make noise all the time. They can't smell you from far away ergo they can't smell impending death. It's like an ink blot test any meaning you are finding is smuggled in by you.
I once pitched a tent somewhere in the deep forests of Sweden, on a trip with my mother and my sister. I sat the tent up on some natural cushions of dry peat, so the ground was nice and soft to sleep on. As it became darker I suddenly heard a large CRACK about fifty metres away as a big twig was snapped in half. The sound was followed by the deep sniffing of air and loud stomping, so I popped my head out of the tent to take look.
Atop the closest hill was the King of the Forest (that would be a moose), looking like he was pondering some deep mystery while on his evening stroll, his mighty antlers brushing away big branches like they were toothpicks. He wasn't too worried about his surroundings until he noticed my scruffy old head. He stopped dead quiet and opened his eyes wide in surprise. Then he snorted heavily in disappointment, like he was muttering a curse, and then he shuffled his heavy body around and walked the other way.
I got the distinct sense that this proud being had a very sincere distaste for people...