About Wil Hershberger

Hi there! I am a naturalist, writer, nature photographer/videographer and natural sounds recordist. I have been interested in the natural world all my life. I am excited about bringing The Music of Nature to the world as a premier web site for the sharing of information and inspiration of the world of natural sounds. Learn more about me at Nature Images & Sounds.

Twilight Tremolo

by Wil Hershberger · January 3, 2013 · 12 Comments

Listening to the sounds of night can be rewarding and sometimes scary (see Lang’s post). Armed with some knowledge of what these sounds are will assuage your fears, creating a feeling of joy and reward when you hear something that you recognize.

Among these amazing night-time sounds are the calls of the Eastern Screech-owl. These diminutive denizens of the dark are heard far more often than seen. About the size of a robin, they spend the day tucked up against the trunk of a tree or hidden within an old woodpecker hole. Occasionally, you might see an Eastern Screech-owl sitting in the entrance of a hole or nest box, seemingly sunning itself late in the afternoon.

Once the sun sets and the woods become quiet, the little screech-owls may start to call. Although they can be heard calling year-round, Eastern Screech-owls call more often from late June through mid-November. There are several calls that are used for different purposes: the tremolo is used for pair and family contact; the whinny call is used in territorial defense; and impressive squeals and bill snaps are given when there is a perceived threat to the nest or young.

Tremolo and whinny calls of a pair of Eastern Screech-owls. Frederick Co., MD. 1998 ©Wil Hershberger

A pair of Eastern Screech-owls engaged in squealing and bill snapping (the so-called “chuckle-rattle calls”) in response to my imitations of their tremolo calls. Frederick Co., MD. 1998 ©Wil Hershberger

Stormy Night of the Katydids

by Wil Hershberger · August 20, 2012 · 12 Comments

As night was falling, a rumbling thunderstorm moved in from the west. Common True Katydids were calling raucously from the oak woods in back of my house with temperatures in the low 80s. The interplay of the storm and the katydids was a delight to my ears. Featured here is a portion of that recording. Listening with headphones will put you right in the midst of the action.

Common True Katydids are among the loudest of our night-time singing insects. They are flightless, having to walk from tree-to-tree through the vegetation or on the ground. Severe storms can dislodge a number of these large katydids and send them to the forest floor. Looking for them after a very windy storm may yield a number of these handsome creatures walking along the ground in search of a tree to climb.

The harsh, rattled call of the males, ch-ch-ch, is familiar to most anyone who lives within their range. Groups of males in one tree will often alternate singing with another group of males singing in a neighboring tree, thus creating a pulsating cadence.

I hope that you enjoy this interesting recording of these night-time chorusers.

Common True Katydids singing during an approaching thunderstorm. Recorded by Wil Hershberger, July 31, 2012 in West Virginia.

Vesper Sparrow Fantasia

by Wil Hershberger · August 7, 2012 · 10 Comments

Vesper Sparrows are gorgeous small birds – a wonderful study in shades of brown. They are found in open habitats where they typically prefer some bare ground in the fields were they nest. Males sing, from elevated perches, a plaintive song that perfectly matches their open, often bleak-looking home. I think that the Vesper sparrow’s song is the prefect complement to these open grassy vistas, adding a hint of loneliness through the ears in concert with what the eyes are seeing.

Vesper Sparrows are found all across the United States in one season or another. The breeding range extends from the southern Appalachians northward into Canada and west and north well into Canada’s western provinces, then all the way south to nearly the Mexican boarder in Arizona and New Mexico.

Vesper Sparrow song is composed of pure, whistled notes, trills, and buzzy elements. It appears that all of the neighboring males in one field will share the same introductory whistles and perhaps the first few syllables of their song. Their songs are complex in that the males have a repertoire of perhaps 50 syllables that they can mix and match to compose a song. The endings of songs are the most dynamic and with the adding and dropping of syllables almost no two songs are alike.

Here is a recording of a male Vesper Sparrow singing his marvelous song from the roadside power lines in Antietam National Battlefield, MD:

Male Vesper sparrow singing at close range, Antietam National Battlefield, MD. July 20, 2012 © Wil Hershberger.

During the breeding season males defend their territories from other Vesper Sparrows. At times, they may chase an interloper away at high speed, sometimes uttering an amazing burst of notes, trills, and buzzes:

Male Vesper sparrow singing while chasing another Vesper Sparrow, Antietam National Battlefield, MD. July 23, 2012 © Wil Hershberger.

However, the real show stopper is the extremely rarely performed and even more rarely observed “flight song” of the Vesper Sparrow. Apparently, this display is mostly reserved for the end of the breeding season when the final nest is empty and the young have fledged. There are very few reports of what the male does during this flight display – here is my account. Patiently, quietly sitting on a perch, the male gives no indication of what is to come. Launching into the air as if hit by a jolt of electricity the male flutters slowly, almost straight up until he reaches a height of 30 feet. At this point he produces a frothing of notes, trills and buzzes that can only be an expression of total joy – “The breeding season is over and the kids are out on their own!” While in this exuberance he flies only a few feet higher on his fluttering wings. In the last few seconds of his song he turns sharply and flies down to another nearby perch where he sits quietly for a few minutes.

Here is my recording of the flight song of a male Vesper Sparrow:

The amazing flight song of the Vesper sparrow, Antietam National Battlefield, MD. August 5, 2012 © Wil Hershberger.

Isn’t that amazing? It is a shame that this wonderful, special song isn’t given more often so that more people could experience the bliss of this display.

Typical Vesper sparrow habitat. Antietam National Battlefield, Maryland.

Upon a pasture stone,
Against the fading west,
A small bird sings alone,
Then dives and finds a nest.

Edith Thomas

The Amazing Acadian Flycatcher

by Wil Hershberger · June 20, 2012 · 10 Comments

Deep in the deciduous woodlands of North America lives a very nondescript flycatcher, the Acadian Flycatcher, which is a member of the Empidonax flycatchers, all of which are drab and cryptic in appearance. The male likes a stream or creek nearby and spends most of his time in the dark understory of his woodland home. His simple song, heard throughout the day, belies his true singing prowess. For this little bundle of feathers has a few tricks up his sleeve, which are particularly fascinating when you consider that flycatchers do not learn their songs — their songs are innate, coded in their DNA.

During the day the Acadian flycatcher sings his familiar “pit-seeup!” or “peet-zuh” (or as the researchers describe it “tee-chup“) from perches among dead branches in the lower portions of the canopy as well as from the top of the shrub layer. He throws back his head with a sharp snap and flicks his tail as he explosively expels his song:

Daytime song of the Acadian flycatcher recorded in June 2012 by Wil Hershberger in Morgan County, WV.

When flying from one perch to another, the Acadian flycatcher will sometimes twitter as it goes. This call is used by both sexes:

Twitter calls of the Acadian flycatcher recorded in June 2012 by Wil Hershberger in Morgan County, WV.

Also, both sexes can give the “peet” call that seems to be used in mate contact:

Peet calls of the Acadian flycatcher recorded in June 2012 by Wil Hershberger in Morgan County, WV.

In the twilight of dawn, our Acadian flycatcher starts singing from the highest perches of the canopy of his forest home. This special “dawn song,” often referred to as “twighlight song” because it is given during the low light of dawn and dusk, is delivered more rapidly and contains more varied notes or calls than the simple daytime song:

“Dawn song” of the Acadian flycatcher recorded in June 2012 by Wil Hershberger in Morgan County, WV.

About an hour before sunset the Acadian flycatcher does another, yet different, rendition of the twilight song. Now at the end of the day the calls and songs are given at a slightly lower pitch (at least for this particular male this was true for every session recorded) but just as excitedly as at dawn:

“Evening song” of the Acadian flycatcher recorded in June 2012 by Wil Hershberger in Morgan County, WV.

Interestingly, the evening twilight song maybe punctuated with a real zinger — a flight song, given as the male flies upward from the shrub layer toward the canopy. This flight song is composed of a series of very rapidly sung calls and song elements. It is truly amazing to hear:

“Flight song” of the Acadian flycatcher recorded in June 2012 by Wil Hershberger in Morgan County, WV. In this example the male does flight song, lands and gives several call notes and twitter calls.

All of the recordings on this page are from the same individual male Acadian flycatcher. I followed his daily activities for nearly two weeks to get good examples of all of the songs and calls presented in this post. Capturing a good recording of the flight song was the most difficult. There is no warning whatsoever that he is going to break into flight song. Once I knew his preferred evening singing perches, I could be prepared to capture this rare vocalization. On more than one occasion there were interfering noises that masked the flight song. One evening, it was nice and quiet when he took flight, the magic ingredient that allowed for the capturing of this amazing (and rarely recorded) flight display.

Summary of Acadian Flycatcher’s sound repertoire:

simple song
flight twitter
peet call
twilight song (there may be different dawn and dusk versions)
flight song

For another portrait of the evening song of the Acadian flycatcher, see Lang’s post, “Acadian Twilight Song.”

The Fairy Bell Ringer

by Wil Hershberger · September 8, 2011 · 5 Comments

In her book, “A Sense of Wonder,” Rachel Carson pens the following engrossing narrative while describing nocturnal forays in search of singing insects with her adopted son Roger:

Most haunting of all is one I call the fairy bell ringer. I have never found him. I’m not sure I want to. His voice — and surely he himself — are so ethereal, so delicate, so otherworldly, that he should remain invisible, as he has through all the nights I have searched for him. It is exactly the sound that should come from a bell held in the hand of the tiniest elf, inexpressibly clear and silvery, so faint, so barely-to-be-heard that you hold your breath as you bend closer to the green glades from which the fairy chiming comes.

This quote has puzzled readers for a long time. Seemingly, the most apt identity of the singer she was seeking would be the Tinkling Ground Cricket, Allonemobius tinnulus. His song certainly fits the bill — a tiny bell being rung from the woodland floor. The silvery tinkling he produces can’t be heard from very far away as he prefers to hide in the leaf litter, preferable of oaks, as he rings out his chorus. Rachel was certainly not alone in having difficulty finding this diminutive singer. Once one is “certain” where he is singing from and begins to search within the layers of fallen leaves he seems to magically vanish. Other than the very lucky searcher who finds him perched on the surface, the best method to find him seems to be to lay out a light colored sheet, grab a large arm full of leaf litter from where he is singing and plop it on the sheet. Careful searching through the treasures in the mound will finally reveal this elusive songster — usually under the last leaf to be turned.

Tinkling Ground Crickets can be found from the southern portion of the New England States south to mid-Georgia, then south from the Gulf coast of Alabama to east Texas then north to extreme southeast Nebraska with a northern limit across northern Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, and then through New York.

Here is a recording of the silvery ringing of a Tinkling Ground Cricket on a cool and rainy day in West Virginia. It certainly evokes the image of a tiny fairy rhythmically swinging a tiny silver bell as if calling all the fairies within earshot to assemble.

Tinkling Ground Cricket singing from the leaf litter in an oak woodland. Berkeley Co. WV. ©Wil Hershberger September, 2011

What do you think of Rachel’s marvelous description? Have you heard this secretive singer in the woods near you? If not, next time you are in the woods, from late July until frosts silence these singers, listen for the silvery bell being rung from the forest floor both day and night. A careful approach with a flashlight might just reveal the singer perched on a clump of leaves — lord of his minute domain.

Japanese Burrowing Cricket

by Wil Hershberger · August 27, 2011 · 12 Comments

Folks have recently been writing and commenting after lectures about a rapid field cricket song they are hearing. Most of these reports are from urban areas and a few from suburbia. During a recent singing insect workshop in southern Ohio we caught one of these gorgeous singers in the act — a Japanese Burrowing Cricket (Velarifictorus micado). They are slightly smaller than our native Fall Field Cricket (Gryllus pennsylvanicus) with pale markings on their face and very nicely patterned stripes on their hind leg femurs.

Japanese Burrowing Crickets were introduced into the Washington D.C. area in 1959. From there they apparently spread to the south and have been introduced all around the Southeast, hitching a ride from nurseries as eggs in the root balls of ornamental plants. There is also evidence that some populations have developed the ability to fly. These are called macropterous individuals as they have longer than normal flight wings making them able to fly more easily and for further distances than the typical form. I have not heard any reports that this new species is displacing or harming our native field and burrowing crickets. I would love to know of any studies that are looking into this.

Now, in 2011, it appears that the Japanese Burrowing Cricket is really on the move. I am hearing them just about everywhere I travel in the mid-Atlantic states. Their songs are distinctive, composed of a rapid series of chirps very reminiscent of a field cricket’s song. These rapid series of chirps can go for 6, 8, to 12 repetitions or can go on more-or-less continuously for minutes on end. Apparently, a number of people have dismissed the song as some form of native field cricket song type that they were not familiar with.

Listen to the mellow chirping of the Japanese Burrowing Cricket, first inside at 77F and then outside at 72F. From personal experience I find that individuals that are outside tend to sing continuous trains of chirps rather than the shorter versions that the inside cricket is singing. However, one of the cricket listeners I was talking with described the shorter chirp sequence coming from his flower beds at night.

Japanese burrowing cricket from Ohio singing short series of chirps followed by a longer series of chirps that was recorded outside near Shepherdstown, Jefferson Co. WV. ©Wil Hershberger August, 2011

Have you heard or seen these wonderful introduced burrowing crickets in your area? I think their song is a pleasing addition to the nighttime soundscape. What do you think of their song?

Twilight Twittering

by Wil Hershberger · March 12, 2011 · 9 Comments

During the earliest of morning twilight in spring, ardent listeners can be enthralled by the dawn song of Field Sparrows. Just the weakest hint of light in the east is all it takes to get the males going, their dawn ritual gracing open fields, pastures, orchards and woodland edges.

To appreciate the Field Sparrow’s dawn performance, we must first become familiar with its normal daytime song, which is a series of sweet slurred whistles that quickly speed up into a trill. Here are two examples, both recorded in West Virginia:

In contrast to its daytime song, the Field Sparrow’s lovely dawn song is more complex—a series of chips followed by a variable collection of slurred notes and trills. Sometimes, the dawn song differs so much from daytime song that a first-time listener has no idea that a Field Sparrow is responsible. Here are three examples:

Three examples of the rapid twittering of a field sparrow giving dawn song. ©Wil Hershberger, June 1998 at three different locations in WV and MD.

The recording above includes examples of dawn song from three different males. The first is from a hay field in southern Frederick County, MD. You can hear a whip-poor-will singing from a wooded hillside in the background. This fellow is producing a very rich version of field sparrow dawn song. The second example is from a wonderful little wildlife preserve in central Frederick Co, MD. Here the dawn song is not so rich, being a simpler version of the motif. Finally, I include an example from good’ol West Virginia (Jefferson County). This fellow was in an apple orchard that was routinely maintained as a commercial orchard (lots of pruning and spraying to control pests). A virtuoso among field sparrows, this last male has the richest and most pleasing of the field sparrow dawn songs that I have heard.

What do you think of the Field Sparrow dawn song? I think it is a special treat that these birds reserve for the break of day, a rapturous explosion of joy greeting the dawn. Granted, the dawn song may function as a powerful message to neighboring males: “Hey — look, I survived the night and this is my territory. Stay out!” But the singing male is likely not thinking anything of the sort, but is simply enjoying the the moment and feeling really good, maybe even rapturous, as he sings.

Wapiti Wailings

by Wil Hershberger · March 8, 2011 · 6 Comments

Although I don’t get to hear it all that often, one of my favorite sounds is that of our native elk bugling during the fall rut. Wapiti, as it is know to the native Americans, is a formidable creature. Adult elk are avoided by even grizzly bears as those massive antlers can mean terrible injury or even death. Many an unwise tourist has been introduced to the business end of those ivory tines and learned the hard way – keep your distance.

During the fall the elk are in rut. Males wail night and day trying to attract a harem and defend it from other males. Watching one of these beasts bugling instills in the viewer the shear power required to create such a wonderful sound that can be heard for miles. In the still darkness of 3am on September 23, 2010, I was in a large meadow just east of Jackson Lake in Grand Tetons National Park, Wyoming. The cataract at the dam of Jackson Lake can be heard in the distance as well as great horned owls and the single yelp of a canid – perhaps a wolf. There are several male elk spread out from very close to where I was standing (you can hear him munching on grass) to many hundreds of yards in the distance. The hills in the area reflected the screams, creating a wonderful echo and reverberation.

An ethereal early morning chorus of elk bugling near Oxbow Bend of the Snake River. Grand Tetons National Park, WY. ©Wil Hershberger, 3AM, Sept. 23, 2010.

Even though this is a rather sterile recording composed of just a few species, I really enjoy the sense of space and the feeling of loneliness that can be palpable in these locations. What do you think? I certainly hope that you enjoy this recording as much as I.

Spring Clickers

by Wil Hershberger · February 23, 2011 · 9 Comments

It is that time of year when the first frogs will be calling from the vernal ponds and streams here in West Virginia. One of my favorite sounds is that of the Upland Chorus Frog. These beautiful little frogs sing at night looking for mates in hopes of bringing the next generation into the world. Their upward pitched song, a rapid series of clicks, reminds some of the sound made by dragging a fingernail across the teeth of a comb.

I early March of 2009, I heard the following group of a dozen or so chorus frogs near my house. Moving every so slowly and quietly I made a furtive approach to the puddle where they were in concert. I placed the stereo mics close to the ground and very close to the edge of the water in hopes of creating a wide stereo field. Listening with headphones you would think that you were in the water with these guys:

If you listen carefully you can hear that there are frogs calling from all around you. The stereo field was accentuated by having the mics so close to the frogs. They were spread out all around this small puddle of, perhaps, 10 feet in diameter.

I hope that you like this recording and the special circumstance under which it was made. The location is now an abandoned ATV race track. I doubt that I will hear any chorus frogs in that area this year – but there is hope that they will return. There is a new owner of the property and no ATVs have been run there for more than a year.

Pasture Dawn

by Wil Hershberger · February 12, 2011 · 13 Comments

Hello, Wil Hershberger here. One of my favorite times of day is dawn. From first light through sun-up, as the world awakens and song returns to the earth I get a feeling of renewal, of rebirth. I feel invigorated for the rest of the day.

A particularly magical morning occurred last summer near my home at a large pasture along a lonely country road. There were American toads singing from a pond in the distance and grassland birds were singing from the field. Not far to the right was a copse of trees that supported a variety of open habitat birds. It was still well before sunrise when I started this recording. Grasshopper sparrows were the most vocal and evident species. Spring field crickets, American robins, tufted titmouse, American crows, red-bellied woodpeckers, American toads and green frogs can all be heard in the background, along with cows mooing near the end. I particularly enjoyed the counter singing of the grasshopper sparrows as these males vie for mates and sing to the world that this spot in the pasture is theirs.

What do you think? Are the grasshopper sparrows too loud? Is the presence of cows a turn off or do you like them? This is the time of the year when farmers separate the calves from their mothers and I don’t think that she was very happy with this situation! I was really impressed that I was able to record for nearly 20 minutes without a jet, car, truck or dog contaminating the aural beauty.