Thursday, November 15, 2012

Make Up Your Mind, Carolina Wren




Dear Carolina Wren,

Which is it: tea-kettle or wheat-eater? I mean, of course, your song--or how it sounds to human ears.    When you're flitting amongst the trees or hiding inside bushes, we humans can't always see you. Yet we can never miss your songs, sung so loudly but sweetly.  And your song is how I  identify you.  That's why I need to know, once and for all, which is your song: tea-kettle, tea-kettle, tea-kettle, tea  or  wheat-eater, wheat-eater, wheat-eater, wheat?

It's a bit frustrating, you see.   Seems like wherever I go, you're singing a different song.  For instance, when I lived in Morrisdale, Pennsylvania (Clearfield County), I knew your song as chirpity, chirpity, chirpity, chirp. Then I took a birding trip to Arkansas, where all the Carolina Wrens were singing tea-kettle.  This confounded me so much that I wrote about it (see my April 13, 2009 post).

Yet here I am again, with the same problem.  One year ago (tomorrow), I moved to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.  For some months, I've been listening to birds in the woodland behind my property singing wheat-eater, wheat-eater, wheat-eater, wheat.  And though the song sounded familiar, I knew that "wheat-eater," so perfectly pronounced, was not a song I had ever heard.  Finally, just yesterday, I heard it again, but this time in the maple tree outside my bedroom window.  I scoured the naked branches, searching for the mystery singer only to discover--WHAT?  Why, that's a Carolina Wren.

Apparently I'm a bit slow when it comes to synthesizing sounds.  I'll admit it.  I've been listening to some YouTube videos of Carolina Wrens and found this fellow who most sounds like my local wrens.  Though his could also be construed as tea-kettle.  I'll let you decide.

Until next time . . . Keep birds in your heart!

Georgia Anne






Sunday, November 11, 2012

Who's Making That Crappy Call?




Whenever I  exchange calls with a Barred Owl, I wonder what he must think of my limited vocalizations.  Does he or she know that mine is a human's  pathetic attempt at imitation?  Or does he believe that somewhere in his woods, another Barred Owl (a slow-witted juvenile) must be calling for the first time? Whatever explanation could there be?

(I've embedded an incredible YouTube video of a Barred Owl vocalizing, up close.)

Moments ago I got back from a three-way conversation with two Barred Owls.  I heard one calling in the distance and so responded, just to be polite.  After all, you wouldn't barge into someone's house without first knocking on the door. Instantly the owl responded . . . and then I . . . and then the owl again. 

Must admit, I've heard stronger and more impressive vocalizations from other owls. In fact, I could hear no gargle (vibrato) ending his or her calls.   Then another Barred joined the conversation, in the opposite direction, so that I was somewhere in the middle. The new comer did possess an impressive call, with a strong ending gargle, and we both acknowledged his presence.  I even attempted a gargle, though I suspect they felt embarrassed for me.

Well after a few rounds of calls, I set a trail homeward through the woods with my dog Bridget. We hadn't gone far when a Barred Owl, high up in a White Pine, took flight at our approach.  Apparently, he or she had come in closer to check us out.  Here's looking forward to our next visit.

Until next time . . . Keep birds in your heart!

Georgia Anne