Sounds of spring remain one of the season’s pleasures

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Blue-headed vireos, such as this bird, are high-elevation summer residents in the region. In the fall, they are also common migrants.

In modern life, it can seem like we’re always looking for ways to relax and de-stress. For me, nothing works quite so well as letting nature’s sounds, as well as sights, provide some measure of relief from stressful situations and anxious thoughts.

I instantly notice when a new vocalization is added to the usual mix. Such occurred on March 26 when I heard the syllabic song of a blue-headed vireo from the upper reaches of a large tree near the fish pond.

The blue-headed vireo’s song has been described as “Hear me! See me! Here I am!” It’s similar to the song of the related red-eyed vireo, but it’s slower and the paired syllables are separated by a brief pause.

În a couple more weeks, the songs of blue-headed vireos will ring out all over the high-elevation forested slopes of many of our local mountains, but these are just starting to get back to the region after an absence during the colder months. Many other feathered singers will be arriving in their wake, including warblers, tanagers and grosbeaks.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • The tufted titmouse is a backyard bird with an impish personality and a loud song.

The mornings around my home often begin with a loud, insistent “Peter! Peter! Peter!” uttered from the woods or even from shrubbery just outside my bedroom window. Male tufted titmice, little gray relatives of chickadees with a distinctive crest and large, dark eyes, sing their urgent “Peter! Peter! Peter!” as a constant refrain in their efforts to attract mates now that they feel spring in their blood.

A series of rat-a-tat-tats echoes from deeper in the woods as woodpeckers tap their sturdy bills against the trunks of trees. The three most common woodpeckers at my home are red-bellied, downy, and pileated, and they all have their own unique vocalizations, as well.

The pileated woodpecker produces clear, far-carrying resonant piping sounds that can last for a few seconds each blast. The much smaller downy woodpecker produces a whinny of high-pitched notes that descend in pitch toward their conclusion. The red-bellied call is probably the one that stands out the most. The call’s a harsh, rolling “Churr, churr, churr” given almost like an expression of exasperation as they circle tree trunks and explore branches.

Since their return earlier this month, the resident red-winged blackbirds are often some of the earliest singers these days. According to the website All About Birds, the male red-winged blackbird’s “conk-la-ree!” is a classic sound of wetlands across the continent of North America. According to the website, the one-second song starts with an abrupt note that transforms quickly into a musical trill.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A male red-winged blackbird sings to attract mates and ward off rivals.

Some birds helpfully introduce themselves with a song that repeats their name. One such common bird is the Eastern phoebe. In recent weeks, a pair has been checking out possible nesting sites. In past years, they have made use of the rafters of my garage and blades on a porch ceiling fan for potential nest sites. The male spends much of the day producing his strident “fee-bee” call, which is a perfect phonetic rendition of the bird’s common name.

Then there’s one of my favorite songs of spring, which is produced by the Eastern towhee, also known by such common names as “ground robin” and “swamp robin.” These birds, which are actually a species of sparrow, also have some instantly recognizable vocalizations. With the arrival of spring, the males seek elevated perches for extensive singing bouts to attract mates and establish territories. Their song has been interpreted, quite accurately, as “drink your tea!” They also have some alarm notes, such as “€œChew-ink”€ and “€œToe-Hee,” of which the latter provides the basis for this bird’s common name.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Male Eastern towhees are persistent singers once they establish  a spring territory.

Towhees occasionally spend the winter, but I’ve not noticed any during the winter of 2023-24. They are back now, and have been keeping a high profile for the past couple of weeks.

Of course, other wildlife is keen to join the springtime chorus. I have so many spring peepers at the fish pond and in the wet fields around my house that the noise from these tiny amphibians can reach deafening levels. The chorus is bound to grow more diverse and louder as spring advances. Take some time to enjoy the sounds of nature at your own home.

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To share your own sighting, make a comment or ask a question, send email to ahoodedwarbler@aol.com. I’m also on Facebook.

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