{"id":4885,"date":"2015-03-09T10:25:07","date_gmt":"2015-03-09T16:25:07","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/earbirding.com\/blog\/?p=4885"},"modified":"2015-06-07T20:18:22","modified_gmt":"2015-06-08T02:18:22","slug":"do-bushtits-sing","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/earbirding.com\/blog\/archives\/4885","title":{"rendered":"Do Bushtits Sing?"},"content":{"rendered":"
(Guest post by Ted Floyd<\/a>, editor of Birding magazine and bird sound enthusiast)<\/h5>\n

Fish swim, snakes slither, songbirds sing. Okay, some songbirds\u2019 songs aren\u2019t especially songful: The \u201csong\u201d of the Cactus Wren<\/a> sounds like an old car starting up, for example, and the \u201csong\u201d of the Yellow-headed Blackbird<\/a> sounds like someone being strangulated. Nevertheless, the chugging of the wren and the tormented gasping of the blackbird qualify as song, pretty much any ornithologist will tell you.<\/p>\n

But some songbirds actually are believed not<\/em> to sing. Probably the best known example in the U.S. is the Cedar Waxwing. Oh, they\u2019re plenty noisy, flocks of them trilling and lisping and wheezing<\/a> their way from tree to tree. But they don\u2019t actually sing, it is said. I can see why. I mean, they\u2019re so over-the-top gorgeous, with their waxy wingtips, wispy crests, and just general, well, gorgeousness. One look at a Cedar Waxwing, and it\u2019s love at first sight\u2014whether you\u2019re a human or a waxwing. No need for song.<\/p>\n

Less well known is that Bushtits are said not to sing. Like waxwings, Bushtits roam about in noisy flocks. But they\u2019re drab, they\u2019re tiny, they\u2019re not as widespread in the U.S. as Cedar Waxwings, and much of their range comprises hot, arid, rocky, low-diversity shrublands eschewed by many birders. Out of sight (and out of earshot), out of mind.<\/p>\n

\u00a0—–<\/p>\n

O<\/span><\/b>f late, I\u2019ve had occasion to question the conventional wisdom that Bushtits do not sing. Here\u2019s the deal: In just the past couple years, Bushtits have invaded my suburban neighborhood near Denver, Colorado. Suddenly, Bushtits are everywhere. There\u2019s a certain novelty for me about seeing and hearing Bushtits. I find myself paying special attention to Bushtits.<\/p>\n

In particular, I\u2019ve noticed that one Bushtit vocalization\u2014a short, high-pitched trill\u2014tends to be given by solitary birds or by birds in pairs. Yes, this vocalization can be heard from birds in large flocks and at any time of the year; in the same way, the Red-winged Blackbird\u2019s classic song<\/a> may be heard in huge roosts on the wintering grounds. I can see from my field notes, as well as from my comments posted to Xeno-Canto, that I\u2019ve been wondering for a while if this short, high-pitched trill functions as the song of the supposedly songless Bushtit. And I had an experience the other day that really got me thinking.<\/p>\n

\u00a0—–<\/p>\n

F<\/span><\/b>riday, March 6, 2015, was the first sort-of warm day we\u2019d had around here in a while. Even through my closed window, I could hear House Finches singing their twangy warbles<\/a> and collared-doves chanting \u201ceighteen\u201d in Greek<\/a>. (Every wondered why they\u2019re called decaocto<\/em>?) I could also hear the trilling of a Bushtit, so I went outside to investigate. A Bushtit was teed up on a branch in my yard, vocalizing away. I went back into the house, got my recorder, and came back outside again. The bird was still at the same perch and still vocalizing, and I recorded it. Then I did something absurd.<\/p>\n

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