Category Archives: Songbirds

I Can Sound Pretty

Songbirds, Vocalizations

Blue jay in winter (photo by Cris Hamilton)

As the days get longer the birds have started to sing again.  Jessica Manack reminded me that one of those songs is quite a surprise.

The blue jay’s typical call is unmistakeable and brash. We usually see him do it because he draws attention to himself when he says “Jay.”

He can also make a wide variety of other sounds, some of which are really odd: Try this link at the Macaulay Library.

But during the courtship season he says KWEE-de-lee, a sound so melodic you think it couldn’t be made by a jay.

When you hear this call, look for the bird and you’ll find him doing rapid deep knee bends, raising and lowering his entire body as he calls.

“I can sound pretty,” says the blue jay.  “I just don’t want you to notice.”

(photo by Cris Hamilton)

Dipping

Bird Behavior, Songbirds

American dipper (photo by Stsve Valasek)

When birders don’t see a bird they’re specifically looking for some of them say they “dipped” on that bird.  Loosely speaking, dipping means “I didn’t find it.”  It comes from British birding slang.

Though I’ve never searched out an American dipper, I have certainly missed seeing one when I was in the right habitat for North America’s only aquatic songbird. (Dippers swim!)

Last year Steve Valasek set himself the challenge of finding all the birds listed in a small New Mexico field guide by the end of 2013.  He looked for American dippers but didn’t find one until ten days into 2014.  Click here to read his account of finally not dipping on this American dipper.

(photo by Steve Valasek)

Gregarious

Bird Behavior, Songbirds
House sparrows in snow in Moscow (photo from Wikimedia Commons)
House sparrows in snow in Moscow (photo from Wikimedia Commons)

House sparrows are always gregarious, but more so in winter when they flock together in large numbers.

In the morning and afternoon they disperse to feed, but twice a day — at midday and in the evening — they gather in dense shrubs or evergreens and chatter for an hour or more.  They sound a lot like this.(*)

You might not hear them in today’s cold weather but when you do it’s unmistakable.  They’re in a bush alive with birds … but you can’t see them.  I’ve tried to count them but they fall silent and hide when I approach.  I rarely see even one.

Here’s a flock in a tree, somewhat hidden but easier to see than inside a privet hedge!

House sparrows in a bush in Saskatoon (photo from Wikimedia Commons)
House sparrows in a bush in Saskatoon (photo from Wikimedia Commons)

House sparrows love each others’ company so much that, according to the Stokes Guide to Bird Behavior, some travel up to four miles to join the roost.

“Gregarious” is a good word for house sparrows (from grex, greg- ‘a flock’) .

(*)  The sounds at the link above are similar but not quite the same as winter chatter because they’re from a more intense breeding chase in April.  Listen to this segment from BirdNote for all the sounds house sparrows make.

(photos from Wikimedia Commons. Click on the captions to see the originals)

p.s. Did you know that house sparrows have declined in Britain by 66% between 1970-2015? It’s hard to imagine here in the States.

Winter Hardy

Songbirds

Carolina wren in winter (photo by Marcy Cunkelman)

A hundred years ago Carolina wrens (Thryothorus ludovicianus) were a southern bird rarely found in southwestern Pennsylvania but they expanded northward during the 20th century, even into Canada.

Carolina wrens don’t migrate so they have to cope with winter wherever they settle down.  When winters are severe they die off and are rarely seen until new individuals disperse northward to fill the gaps.  This was particularly noticeable after the harsh winter of 1977-78 when it took them ten years to recover their northern haunts.

Since then they’ve done quite well, a success due in part to human changes to the landscape.  Warmer winters, regrown woodlots, and backyard bird feeders all make it easier for Carolina wrens to survive though it wouldn’t have been possible without a change on their part, too.  In 1912 Dr. Frank Chapman considered them to be woodland birds unadaptable to human settings but by 1948 Arthur Bent observed that there was plenty of evidence they’d made the change.  Indeed we see them near our homes every day.

This winter may be a tough challenge for Carolina wrens.  During the polar vortex January 6-7 many birders were concerned that their favorite wrens would perish. We were happily surprised that they came through, sometimes by hiding in our buildings, during the two-day cold snap.

This week will bring another, longer round of arctic cold with temperatures down to 0oF.  Will our wrens make it through this time?

Fill your feeders and cross your fingers.  May our Carolina wrens be winter-hardy, greeting us with their loud calls and songs when the weather warms again.

 

(photo by Marcy Cunkelman)

Melancholy Tyrant

Songbirds

Tropical kingbird (photo by barloventomagico, Creative Commons license via Flickr)

Continuing my tropical theme…

The tropical kingbird seems rare to us because his range barely touches southern Arizona and the lower Rio Grande valley, but he’s a very common bird in Central and South America and is often seen near humans because he likes what we do to the landscape — especially our wires.

I became interested in him when I learned his scientific name: Tyrannus melancholicus.  It means “melancholy tyrant.”  Why was he named this way?

Members of the Tyrannus genus are “tyrant” flycatchers because they fearlessly defend their territory, nest and young against much larger predators.  Below, a tropical kingbird attacks a zone-tailed hawk.  Our Tyrannus, the eastern kingbird, does the same to hawks in Pennsylvania.

Tropical kingbird attackes a zone-tailed hawk (photo by barloventomagico, Creative Commons license via Flickr)

Melancholicus, meaning melancholy, is not an obvious choice for such an active bird.  Mourning doves are named for their sad song so I listened to the tropical kingbird’s song in case that’s what gave him his name. Click here to hear.

It doesn’t sound sad to me, but perhaps he’s so-named because he sings this tune in the dark before dawn and stops when the sun rises.

I don’t know…  Do you?

 

(photos of tropical kingbirds in Barlovento, north-central Venezuela, by barloventomagico, Creative Commons license via Flickr) 

No Snow

Songbirds, Weather & Sky

Snow buntings, Crawford County, Jan 2014 (photo by Shawn Collins)

Can you believe how warm it is today?

Shawn Collins found these snow buntings in Crawford County a week ago when the snow was melting.  Two days later we were in the sub-zero polar vortex.  Now it’s 60 degrees warmer and the snow is gone.

It’s a good thing snow buntings are white, brown and black. They’re camouflaged even when there’s no snow.

(photo by Shawn Collins)

At The Top Of The Mountain

Beyond Bounds, Songbirds

Black rosy-finch (photo by Steve Valasek)

Here’s a bird I hope to see some day … but I’ll have to go out of my way to find it.

The black rosy-finch (Leucosticte atrata) is an alpine bird from the American West that spends all his life at high elevation.  In the summer he nests on cliffs above the treeline in the Rockies.  In the winter he moves to lower mountaintops.

Steve Valasek photographed this one at a feeder at Sandia Crest, New Mexico … at the top of the mountain.

 

(photo by Steve Valasek)

Bird Equivalents

Beyond Bounds, Songbirds

Tufted titmouse, Great tit (photos from Wikimedia Commons)

Here’s an interesting thought: Around the world there are birds with similar habitat and food requirements that are ecological equivalents to each other.  Though they live on different continents they occupy similar niches.  Sometimes they even look alike.

I was intrigued by this when I found a graphic on page 630 of Ornithology by Frank B. Gill showing three sets of equivalent birds from North America and Europe.  Here they are:

Set #1.  The tufted titmouse in North America (at left above) is an ecological equivalent to the great tit in Europe (at right).

All About Birds says the tufted titmouse prefers “eastern woodlands below 2,000 feet elevation, including deciduous and evergreen forests. Tufted titmice are also common visitors at feeders and can be found in backyards, parks, and orchards.”

Europe’s great tit prefers similar habitat.  I wish our titmouse was as colorful.

 

Set #2.  Our black-capped chickadee (at left below) is equivalent to Europe’s willow tit (at right).

Again according to All About Birds, “Black-capped chickadees may be found in any habitat that has trees or woody shrubs, from forests and woodlots to residential neighborhoods and parks, and sometimes weedy fields and cattail marshes. They frequently nest in birch or alder trees.”

In Europe, look for the willow tit in these habitats.

Black-capped chickadee, Willow tit (photos from Wikimedia Commons)

 

Set #3.  The chestnut-backed chickadee of the Pacific Northwest (at left below) is equivalent to the coal tit in Europe (at right).

All About Birds says, “Chestnut-backed chickadees are found in dense coniferous and mixed coniferous forests of the Pacific Coast. You can also find them in shrubs, trees, and parks of cities, towns, and suburbs.”

The coal tit has similar habitat requirements in Europe and fills a wider niche in Ireland where competing marsh, willow and crested tits aren’t present.

Chestnut-backed chickadee, Coal tit (photos from Wikimedia Commons)

 

There are many more ecologically equivalent species.  GrrlScientsist shows us Kenya’s ecological equivalent of the red-tailed hawk at this link.

Can you think of other bird equivalents?

 

(photos from Wikimedia Commons. Click on these links to see the originals: tufted titmouse, great tit, black-capped chickadee, willow tit, chestnut-backed chickadee, coal tit.
Today’s Tenth Page is inspired by page 630 of Ornithology by Frank B. Gill.)

Sparrow Time

Migration, Songbirds

Fox sparrow and white-throated sparrow (photo by Steve Gosser)

It’s not news that migrating sparrows are back in town but it’s always news to see a fox sparrow in any setting.

Steve Gosser photographed this one (top) with another migrant, a white-throated sparrow, at Harrison Hills Park last week.

Some sparrows come to western Pennsylvania in the fall and stay all winter, including dark-eyed juncoes, American tree sparrows, and the white-throated sparrow shown above.

But fox sparrows are few and far between and right now they’re just passing through, headed for the southern U.S.

If you don’t see one before Thanksgiving you’ll probably have to wait until March to catch them on their return trip back north.

I’ve been looking, but so far no luck.

 

(photo by Steve Gosser)

More Males Than Females

Bird Behavior, Schenley Park, Songbirds

Summer tanagers, male and female (photos from Wikimedia Commons)

Here’s an amazing fact: Among birds, and especially among declining species, there are more males than females.

It’s always easier to find male birds during breeding bird surveys.  They’re clothed in conspicuous colors and put on a big show, singing and displaying to claim territory and find a mate.  Females are hard to see, cryptically colored, sing less (if at all), and are secretive around the nest.  Unfortunately it’s not just flashiness that makes males easier to count.  The males are saying “Notice me!” because there aren’t enough females to go around.

In 2007, after reviewing hundreds of scientific papers, ornithologist Dr. Paul Donald concluded that in the vast majority of bird species males outnumber females. This means we can’t extrapolate the size of a breeding population based on the number of males we count.

Why does this happen?  Dr. Donald explained, “It’s not that females are producing more sons than daughters, because at hatching the sex ratio is generally equal. The only possible explanation is that females do not live as long as males. As generations grow older, they become increasingly dominated by males as more females die off.”

Dr. Donald also found that the skewed sex ratio is even worse among endangered birds and at its worst among the rarest species.  He hypothesized this is due to predation of females while on the nest — the double whammy of killing current and future generations at the same time.

Summer tanagers gave me personal experience with this sex ratio phenomenon.

The City of Pittsburgh is outside the summer tanagers’ range so it was quite rare that I found a pair of summer tanagers breeding in Schenley Park in 2011.   I noticed them just after their nest failed (due to a predator) because the male was impossible to ignore.  He was so angry he was shouting at everyone.

He and his lady tried for a second nest but it was too late in the season and they dispersed without success.  The next spring he was back again and easy to see.  He called and displayed, sang and sang, but she never showed up.  He was alone and that made it much easier for everyone to find him.  In 2012 he never had a mate.

This year he didn’t show up at all.   I assume both he and his lady have died.

Fortunately summer tanagers have a very wide range and their population is doing well — they are listed as “Least Concern” —  but they illustrated Dr. Donald’s finding:  Among most bird species there are more males than females.

(photos of summer tanagers (male on left, female on right) from Wikimedia Commons)