Hawk, Robin, and Wren

Written by Lang Elliott on March 22, 2011 · 8 Comments

Given that I’ve been working the theme of animals giving alarm calls in the presence of hawks, I can’t help but post the following recording that I made with the help of my friend Karen Edelstein.

Last July, Karen alerted me that immature Red-tailed Hawks were frequently perching and calling in the woods behind her house. So I showed up one morning, waited for about an hour, and then delighted in the arrival of a youngster who landed and screamed loudly from high in a tree. Within seconds, an American Robin started calling excitedly from nearby, giving it’s sharp peek and softer tut-tut-tut alarm calls, probably because it had a nest nearby. Another songbird responded as well; one can hear a male Carolina Wren giving cheer calls (down-slurred rattling trills) in the background. Listen also for the harsh nasal mews of a distant Gray Squirrel, possibly also upset by the presence of the hawk (although his calls may have been coincidental):

American Robin and Carolina Wren sounding off in response to a perched and calling immature Red-tailed Hawk. 10:30 am, 24 July 2010 near Ludlowville, New York. Recorded by Lang Elliott.0:00 / 0:00

I rather like this recording. I think it’s a fairly straightforward example of songbirds responding with alarm calls in the presence of a potential predator, an aerial predator in this case. But can we be absolutely certain the robin and wren are calling because of the hawk? Seems likely for sure, but maybe the Robin and Wren were upset because I was standing nearby. And maybe the distant Gray Squirrel didn’t give a whit about me or the hawk. I say this because I’ve heard Gray Squirrels give mewing calls on many occasions when there was no obvious or immediate cause; for this reason, I’m always hesitant to label them “alarm calls”.

One must always be extra careful when inferring causation from correlation, especially when basing one’s claims on just one or two observations. It is all too easy to misinterpret what is going on.

Robin Dawn Song

Written by Lang Elliott on February 7, 2011 · 9 Comments

I used to chase after birds with a parabolic reflector, trying to get the closest and cleanest recordings possible. The idea was to to “slice the bird out of its environment,” so that only one singer would be heard in the recording, with minimal reverberation. I lost interest in this rather sterile approach a number of years ago, even though such recordings have their place in identification guides and are clearly useful for scientific analysis. Now I primarily record soundscapes which include the sounds of a variety of species, usually with no one individual dominating a recording. Nonetheless, I still have an interest in gathering nice “species portraits,” recordings that emphasize the sounds made by an individual bird, but that include a spacious soundscape backdrop.

For example, consider the following recording of an American Robin singing excitedly at dawn, which I made in 1995 (back in the early days!) in the Adirondack Mountains of upper New York State. I find it pleasing in most respects. It emphasizes the robin, but there are plenty of other sounds spread across a wide soundscape. Listen especially for the whistles of White-throated Sparrows, the two-parted high-pitched songs of a Nashville Warbler, and lots of Mink Frogs giving their tapping calls from a nearby wetland:

American Robin dawn song, with White-throated Sparrow and Mink Frogs. Dawn, 15 June 1995. Recorded by Lang Elliott.0:00 / 0:00

Do you like it? As far as “species portraits” go, I think this one rates fairly high. The robin’s song doesn’t rattle the ear (like most closeup robin recordings do), yet it stands out clearly against the busy background. I’m biased for sure, but I can’t help but crow a bit about this species portrait.

Robin Brook

Written by Lang Elliott on January 21, 2011 · 2 Comments

Common, well-known birds are sometimes the most difficult to characterize with recordings, especially if one desires to convey the mood evoked by the bird’s song. The ubiquitous and well-known American Robin certainly falls into this category. Robins are easy to record because they sing loudly and prominently. But I’ve discovered that close and loud recordings don’t do the song justice—what we remember as comforting and musical ends up jolting our ears.

The soothing quality of the robin’s song can only be conveyed when it is part of a larger and more inclusive soundscape. The singer should be at a distance where the song is richly reverberant, its sharp edges smoothed. This is the way we generally hear robin songs, drifting into our windows at dawn, gently begging us from sleep.

Is capturing such magic an impossible goal? I think not. Consider the following recording that I made last spring in nearby Shindagin Hollow. I set my microphone next to a trickling brook and waited. I could hear a distant Wood Thrush. Soon a robin joined in, singing from several hundred feet away. The mix of sound was intensely pleasurable and I beamed with delight as I made my recording:

A babbling brook with a distant American Robin, 4:37 am, 14 June 2010, Shindagin Hollow near Brooktondale, New York. Recorded by Lang Elliott.0:00 / 0:00

This soundscape definitely fits into the relaxation category. I would love to rise each dawn to such a concert. The babbling brook is mesmerizing. The robin is at the perfect distance, it’s songs richly reverberant. The thrush is also a key player, providing a subtle yet beautifully melodic element to the composition.

I would put this soundscape near the top of the list for relaxation and stress relief. Would you?

American Robin Winterberry Feast

Written by Marie Read on February 8, 2010 · Leave a Comment

> HD version.

Winter came late to New York’s Finger Lakes in 2009; it was mild into November and we didn’t get our first serious snow until halfway through December. As usual, by then most of the songbirds of summer were just a memory, but certain species always linger those that birders refer to fondly as “half-hardy”. Birds such as the Eastern Bluebird, Carolina Wren, Hermit Thrush, Northern Flicker, Cedar Waxwing—and of course American Robin—take their sweet time heading south, staying well into the cold weather season, sometimes all winter long if they can find food.

Winter Solstice was just days away when I heard the robin. I’d watched the usual big push of migrant robins fleeing ahead of the north wind weeks before, and so I was surprised to find one remaining individual in my backyard. Its sharp calls gave it away—PEEK!…PEEK!…PEEK!-tut-tut—coming from the edge of the woods (see below for a recording). And there it sat, looking chilly with its feathers fluffed up against the wind while the snowflakes tumbled down, surely berating itself for lingering too long up north!

It seemed like a photo-op in the making, something in fact that I’d been anticipating. Several years ago I began making my yard more bird-friendly by planting native food plants such as winterberry, a type of holly that produces masses of bright red berries that are an important winter food for wildlife around here. The reason half-hardy birds can stick around so long is that they adapt their diet to the season. Robins, bluebirds and other thrush relatives switch from a summer meal plan of insects, earthworms and other small creatures to a fall and winter diet of fruit. And I’d made sure there was fruit in abundance on my property.

Sure enough, those berries proved irresistible and the hungry robin was soon filling up, arriving for a snack several times an hour throughout the day. So I set up my photo blind and camera gear and got to work. Three days, and many images both video and stills—later, the robin had departed, presumably to somewhere with better weather!

Fruit-eating birds are essential dispersal agents for many plants. Notice how the robin swallows the berries whole; it will eliminate the seeds later at some other location in its droppings, spreading winterberry to other areas so more hungry birds can enjoy a winter feast.

Here is an example of the PEEK! and PEEK!-tut-tut calls of a robin, recorded in late winter not far from my home near Ithaca, New York:

Alarm calls of an American Robin. 7:30pm. 15 February 1990. Shindagin Hollow near Ithaca New York. Recorded by Lang Elliott.0:00 / 0:00