There is a researcher who spends nearly half of the year in the mountains, observing the behavior of birds for many years. It is said that he can "understand" the language of the birds. This is likely due to a physical sense developed over many years of continuously listening to the birds' calls.
I suddenly remembered a story I once read about a boy with Indian blood. The boy, taken in by Cherokee grandparents, gradually learned to sense the breathing of the trees and the hearts of animals as he lived deep in the forest — a feeling of communicating with the world without relying on words eventually took root within him. It seems to me that the quiet conviction of researchers also harbors the same kind of "embodied understanding."
Entering the forest with nothing but his body, relying only on ordinary tools such as binoculars and a small recorder, he "translates" the birds' perspective through his own body. After accumulating thousands of hours, he discovers that bird calls have "words" and "sentences," and that changing the word order alters the meaning. This is a surprising discovery that shakes the conventional "common sense" that language is an ability unique to humans.
Without using cutting-edge technology or tools, he conducts research with just his own body and achieves results that rewrite global common sense—when you encounter his approach to work, the anxiety of "Is there really any idea that no one has touched in this era flooded with information?" suddenly falls away. Unnamed value still lurks within reachable radius. Such hope begins to sprout.