Leonardo 3. Woodpecker’s tongue

I have finished reading “Leonardo da Vinci”, by Walter Isaacson and bought two other his books: Einstein: His Life and Universe and The Wise Men: Six Friends and the World They Made. Isaacson does solid research and presents his views in a very clear way. I will probably read all of his books.

Talking about Leonardo, he emphasizes his insatiable curiosity. Here are just four consecutive bullet points of Leonardo’s “to-do” list created around 1510, when he spent a lot of time dissecting corpses and studying the anatomy of humans and animals:

— Get hold of a skull. 
— Observe the holes in the substance of the brain, where there are more or less of them.
— Describe the tongue of the woodpecker and jaw of a crocodile.
— Give measurement of the dead using his finger [as a unit].  

Walter Isaacson was especially impressed by Leonardo’s interest in the tongue of the woodpecker.  It seems this question about the tongue came from nowhere. But I suspect that Leonardo noticed the tongue while observing a woodpecker pulling an insect from a deep and narrow crack. One has to have a very long tongue to accomplish the fit. So, Leonardo decided to verify his observation.

As for the jaw of a crocodile, it probably impressed Leonardo by its ability to crash big bones. Both questions were the result of Leonardo’s acute ability to notice minute details while looking at things and seeing them as they are without (or with very little) preconceived assumptions. In one of my previous messages, I had mentioned his amazing observation of flying birds and the deep conclusions he made based on his observations. 

When I was a teenager, I also wondered how a woodpecker manages to knock the wood with such a force without incurring any damage to its own head.

It turned out that a woodpecker’s tongue – because it is so long – winds around the skull through a special cavity, thereby cushioning the brain and protecting them from the damaging vibration. I wonder if Leonardo was able to figure it out. I hope he did.

I had the right question but did not even try to look for an answer and only now, thanks to Leonardo and Walter Isaacson, have learned it. 

Our daughters asked good questions too. Trying to answer them, I learned a lot myself. And it seems helped our daughters too. We are very happy with their achievements. 

But what would happen if I had enough curiosity to pursue more of my own questions?

When my grandson will start asking his questions, I am going to be more persistent in answering them and will encourage his natural curiosity. I think it will help him (and me) to avoid making the simple natural things mysterious and to be able to understand the not so simple phenomena.

His world is going to be much more complex than mine was, and I would like him to be among those who are not intimidated by its formidable challenges and able to tackle them for the benefit of everybody. It makes life more meaningful, doesn’t it?