Animal Builders： The Masters of Nature's Architecture

Self-ventilating homes, log and stone foundations engineered to withstand high waters, courtyards decorated like palaces, gigantic nests woven in the canopy, solid, strong, sustainable structures rapidly adaptable to changes in the environment. The architectural ingenuity of the natural world is every bit as good as ours. All over the world, day in, day out, they design, build, decorate and maintain astonishing structures. Whether it's a day's work or the project of a lifetime, all this building is designed to guarantee one thing, their immediate and long-term survival. The long, hard winter is over. Spring has finally come to Wyoming in the northwest United States. After sleeping away the cold months, the natural world springs into action. For this young beaver, it's time to build up strength. Following his father, he has to learn all the ropes. The river is calm and the dam his father built seems strong. Summer and winter, this vast structure traps water behind it and creates a pond deep enough to build a safe home. The young beaver and his family spent the winter huddled together here in their lodge, safe from the cold and hunger. This year's litter has just arrived. The juvenile struggles to find its place. At two years old, this young architect has reached sexual maturity, so the eldest of the siblings is driven out. It is time for him to go build his own dam and lodge for his future family. His survival now depends on his ability to design and build his territory. Step one, find a suitable building site in this vast expanse. With his webbed hind feet, rudder-like tail, and thick layer of fat, the young beaver is already well-equipped for this epic adventure spanning several days or even weeks in the icy waters of Snake River. Although he possesses the requisite physical attributes, this is still unfamiliar territory. Luckily, he comes across the remains of a dam. Better still, built up against the bank is the base of an abandoned lodge. A quick survey convinces him this is the perfect base for renovation, but there's no time to lose. Winter is around the corner, and there is still a lot of work to do, especially when you're alone and inexperienced. Then again, he already has a master carpenter's tools, like these incisors, which are as strong and sharp as a chisel. This rodent is primarily nocturnal, but sleep can wait. There's a dam to build. Left to his own devices, the juvenile beavers away night and day. Reproducing what he has learned, he tries to make the most of the materials nature provides. The young beaver still lacks practice, but instinctively he adds stones to reinforce the branch framework anchored in the mud. Water is a demanding environment, and sometimes a formidable opponent, too, even for this semi-aquatic mammal. After two weeks hard work, the structure is now complete. All that remains to be done is pack mud between the branches to make it stronger and reduce the risk of leaks. The young beaver has learned from his father to interpret the river's moods, and he has just noticed a sudden change in the river flow. At the foot of the Rockies, the current is formidable. Our young builder evidently lacked time and experience. The dam gives way as he looks on helplessly. It will have to be rebuilt. It is late in the season now. In a few months, snow and ice will cover the land and river once more. So rebuilding is a question of survival, and giving up is not an option, especially when you have to start a family before winter. While some builders overcome obstacles alone, others have always relied on the community. In this strange one meter high maze of dark tunnels, it's surprisingly quiet given that hundreds of thousands of residents live here. This is the home of the formica rufa, or southern wood ant. Most are still hibernating, but one ventures outside. In the Jura mountains of Switzerland, spring has sprung at last. Time for the rest of the colony to wake up. Only heat can revive their bodies. The ant is a cold-blooded animal whose body temperature depends on its environment. Those closest to the surface scurry to the top of the mound to sunbathe. Then, like many radiators, they transfer the heat energy into the nest's galleries. Little by little, thousands of drowsy worker ants spring into action in the depths. To ensure the colony's future, activity absolutely must resume. And the future is this. The queen. The largest of all. And the only ant capable of giving life. The anthill is her fortress, her protection. But to create the ideal conditions for her royal mission, the nest must be a constant 25 to 30 degrees Celsius all summer long. To meet this major challenge, the ants first choose a strategic spot. The dome-shaped mound is built against the base of a spruce tree. Its branches provide protection from the worst excesses of the weather. And all the building materials the ants need. Small twigs and conifer needles are the best things the colony has found to insulate the mound. But one side collapsed during the winter. It must be rebuilt fast. How is the activity of thousands of workers effectively coordinated? Ants have a secret. Pheromones. Invisible chemical signals that the ant deposits along its root, which tell the individuals behind it what to do. Thanks to their powerful mandibles, or jaws, these ants can dig, cut, and carry 100 times their own body weight. But all this physical effort has a dual purpose. This mass of gathered vegetation does not only strengthen the structure. It is also a great source of natural energy. The conifer needles in the mound decompose continuously. And all this rotting detritus keeps the ants' nest warm. Well before humans, ants understood the benefits of compost. But rot and decay must not be synonymous with dirtiness. And the ants' constant forays into the outside world present a health risk. The workers have a very effective solution though. Placed at each of the nest's entrances, these lumps of spruce resin serve as antimicrobial floor mats. Because among ants, to prevent contamination of the colony, cleanliness is vital. But the temperamental climate calls for other solutions. Once more, the inclement spring weather puts these ingenious builders to the test. Again, the ants make use of the spruce's natural properties. Like a thatched roof, these conifer needles make the structure waterproof. All that remains to be done is plug the odd hole. As the workers race around frantically on the mound, deep underground, preparations are underway. All the conditions are now in place. And for the queen, egg laying can commence. As the next generations of workers emerge, outside, summer is on its way. And the heat, vital for the newly laid brood, could be deadly. Forcing the ants to surpass themselves in their quest for solutions. In northern Australia, the hotter weather does not seem to affect building activity. In gardens, strange palaces of twigs spring up underneath large shrubs. Their courtyards are decorated with all sorts of brightly colored objects. The master builder here is the great bowerbird. Stick by stick, the male great bowerbird constructs this love nest, or bower, in an attempt to attract a mate. An intricate and perfectly proportioned structure, consisting of a central tunnel-like avenue and a floor scattered with objects. It takes nothing less to attract the most demanding females. High in her tree, this female surveys the different construction sites. Because several males are competing for her attention. This young male is constructing his first bower. Aged three, it will take long years of training before he is as talented as his elder. A stoned throw away, another rival is already adding the finishing touches. To lure the opposite sex, it takes more than an elaborate structure. It's a question of decoration too. The only way our young architect can progress is to spy on the most experienced builders. This older neighbor is gathering an array of brightly colored objects, a harmonious collection of ornaments. But these birds cannot see colors, so the male relies on contrasts and arrangements. He uses visual illusions to make the bower more attractive to the opposite sex. The builders of the natural world constantly adapt. In the past few years, berries and flowers have been replaced by glass and plastic, which sadly exist in abundance. Our young architect still has a long way to go. He has only just laid the foundations of his bower. But he must rise to the challenge. His progeny and the future of the great bower bird depend on it. Expertise is achieved over time. It can often take years to acquire. Deep in the Issa Valley in the heart of Tanzania, every morning the trees reveal strange animal constructions. Which huge bird builds these structures? Painstakingly woven nests of branches and leaves. Sometimes even featuring a pillow and mattress. Here is one of the architects. Yesterday evening, this group of chimpanzees chose a tree for the night. And each built their own nest in it. Some seem reluctant to leave the comfort of their bed this morning. 19,000 nests. That's the average number this young chimp will have to build in his lifetime. But for now, he still sleeps in his mother's arms. Soon he will have to make a start and tackle this challenge alone. For the moment, exploring and breakfast take precedence. To be sure of this morning feast, the community of chimpanzees carefully selected the tree providing the most plentiful supply of food. Their daily goal is to ensure everyone gets enough to eat. A great deal of time is devoted to this. And to meet this vital need, they sometimes have to cover great distances. Like their fellow chimps, the members of this group live in a community. This is so the young can benefit from the experience of the older members. The group often even ventures into the dry part of the forest. The adults move quickly and everyone has to keep up, even if they are tiny. They know this territory like the back of their hands and have memorized the location of hundreds of fruit trees. These dry nests indicate the tree already provided a morning feast a few months ago. For this young chimpanzee, every day is an opportunity to learn something new. Under his mother's watchful eye, he makes a first attempt at building. Because chimpanzees never sleep in the same bed. For now, he will nap in his mother's arms once more. Daylight is fading already. It's time to set off again. And it's high time they found a good place to spend the night. Because in this part of the world, the sun sets early. This is the hour when predators, such as the leopard, start hunting. This gigantic fig tree has sufficient resources to satisfy everyone's morning appetite. And the surrounding trees are absolutely perfect for tonight's nests. The lowest branches are more than four meters above the ground. And those higher up are an ideal size. They can bear this chimp's weight, but not a leopard's. So, like every evening, the ancient ritual is repeated. Drawing on hundreds of hours of practice, the chimpanzee's movements are precise and confident. It has learned to understand the resistance of branches, to bend them, break them in the right place, and weave them without the nest coming apart. Every detail counts. For our apprentice nest builder, it's a precious lesson, but a hard act to master. The adult's nests are ready in just seven minutes. Yet again, the best solution seems to be the maternal nest. In nature, no energy is expended unnecessarily. What a lot of work! The rewards outweigh the effort, though. By guaranteeing a peaceful and comfortable night's sleep, these nests may well offer the best conditions for the young chimpanzee's development and their elders' advancement. As everyone knows, sleep enhances memory and learning. Building has likely given the chimpanzee clear advantages in evolution. If species use up so much energy building, it's because there are certain benefits. In the middle of summer, here in the Swiss Jura, faced with rising temperatures, the southern wood ants are a perfect example. Begun in the spring, the restoration of the mound is now complete. The anthill is ready to brave the coming summer heat. The workers take the opportunity to build up their strength. Deep underground, in the nest, thousands of eggs laid earlier in the season have hatched and are receiving special attention. But an unusually hot sun has been beating down on the forest since this morning. This sudden heat wave calls for an immediate response. Clustered around the entrances, the workers carefully plug the exposed holes. Painstakingly, they block out the sun's rays and take refuge inside. On the shaded side of the mound, the ants make openings to let the air in. This thatch of pine needles makes the anthill highly adaptable to temperature change. But the sun is getting hotter and hotter. The cocoons, pupae, and queen must be protected. It's time to move. Once again, pheromones are emitted to alert the workers to the danger, tell them which way to go, and what to do. The lower chambers are still cool. This is where the brood has been moved to. The structure has fulfilled its purpose, climate control. Completely naturally, the anthill achieves this technological feat. In the summer, in the forest, there are other dangers more unpredictable than the sun. This structure reveals its marbles of ingenuity once more. There's a zone where the ants keep watch for intruders and respond immediately in the event of attack. The soldiers get into firing position. Their powerful formic acid spray should subdue the enemy. Harmless to humans, the repulsive smell and prickling sensation are enough to drive away most predators. On the slopes of the Swiss Girard, the remarkable design of this anthill has enabled the colony to survive for decades. But this seemingly lone structure is actually part of a much bigger and incredibly sophisticated complex. The southern wood ants have formed a super colony here, extending over 70 hectares with 1,200 anthills and over 200 million workers, which cooperate with each other and coordinate their activities. This social model brilliantly illustrates their building skills. In Australia, mating season is in full swing. Although most inhabitants have already found a mate. Under the shrubs, our male great bowerbirds are still busy working hard. The youngest has made progress. He has mastered the art of twig weaving. But the roof proved too tricky for this inexperienced bird. The decor could make up for this failing. And this garden is full of treasure. But you should never leave gems like this unattended. Decoration theft is part of the competition. And this shell blends in perfectly with the decor of this older male. He now has a perfect avenue with which to lure a female and show off his best features during a courtship display. The treasure has disappeared. Such behavior merits a warning. Juveniles tend to retaliate mildly. But the location of each twig counts. So for an older bird, this intrusion is intolerable. The bower, which was well underway, is taken apart. Well, almost. As if things weren't bad enough, the female decides to visit her suitor's bowers. Needless to say, the young bird does not stand a chance. This well-finished bower seems far more interesting to her. It is time for the builder to show off his best dance moves and sounds. The beautiful architecture takes on its full meaning now. Center stage, the female becomes the spectator of a unique act performed in the round. Not everyone can be a Don Juan. In the game of seduction, building and strutting are not always enough. Subtlety is key. Sometimes you have to know when to quit. Because when it comes to choosing a mate, the female always has the last word. The need to seduce in order to reproduce often causes animals to surpass themselves. In Wyoming, this young beaver has worked all summer long. The dam is finished. All he has to do now is stock up the underwater larder with tender branches. Directly connected to the lodge via an entrance below the surface, this part of the structure is essential for surviving the seven long winter months ahead. Suddenly, a distant scent stops him in his tracks. His nose has not deceived him. Over there, on the other side of the dam, a female has stopped. Attracted by this fully equipped stretch of river, when you're choosing a partner for life as she is, this is crucial. In the space of a few weeks, on a base inherited from previous generations of beavers, the young rodent laid the foundations of his new life. He reproduced what he saw his father do and managed to complete his giant building project in record time. He can now take a well-earned rest. He and his partner will be safe and warm all winter. It's in the following spring, when the big melt begins, that we see just how effective this age-old skill is. In the lodge, the first litter has arrived. Fed, sheltered and protected by this ingenious structure, the kits are already following in their father's footsteps. The beaver's technical prowess benefits us all. Its dam building activities reduce the risk of drought and help prevent fires. And beaver-created ponds and wetlands provide new habitats. Like the beaver, all nature's builders have devised an admirable and sustainable form of land management. On this vast planet, where we are building our world, surely this animal expertise could be an invaluable source of inspiration for human architects.