Wings Over The Prairie

photo of Northern Shoveler © Lang ElliottWe’ve all seen waterfowl flying overhead, but few of us are aware of how much sound they make with their wings.

In 1994, Ted Mack and I embarked on a six-month recording expedition. Our first project was to document the spring migration of waterfowl as they moved northward through the prairie states. For nearly two months, we worked numerous lakes and potholes in shortgrass prairie from Nebraska to North Dakota and Manitoba. One of our favorite spots was Crescent Lake National Wildlife Refuge in west-central Nebraska. During one of his visits to the refuge, Ted discovered a long and narrow pothole that appeared to be a primary flight path for waterfowl moving between large marshy wetlands at each end. He noticed that duck after duck would fly the length of the pothole, often only ten or fifteen feet above the surface of the water. During a lull in activity, Ted quickly placed his soundscape microphone along the shoreline and then retreated to his pickup truck a few hundred feet away. There he smiled with pleasure as ducks not only flew over the mic, but also landed and swam right in front of it. Here are some highlights from his session, featuring the wing sounds of a variety of species, including Common Goldeneye, Green-winged Teal, Lesser Scaup, and Northern Shoveler:

Wing noises of various species of waterfowl flying over and landing in a prairie pothole. 8 am, 23 March 1994, Crescent Lake National Wildlife Refuge in western Nebraska. Recording by Ted Mack.

photo of Lang ElliottCan you believe the incredible whooshes made by the ducks in flight? I was shocked when I first heard these sounds. Sure, I had heard the musical twittering of beating wings and some measure of swishiness, but never anything so powerfully loud as what Ted has documented. Good job Ted!!

Let me help you identify some of the sounds. The musical wing twitter or whistle that is prominent about a third of the way through is made by the Common Goldeneye (also called “The Whistler”). Listen also for the loud musical peeps of Green-winged Teal, heard right after the Goldeneye. The odd nasal notes heard at various points are made by Lesser Scaup—a small group was swimming not far from the microphone. About halfway through, listen for a male Ring-necked Pheasant that cackles and then shakes his wings. About two-thirds the way through, a Northern Shoveler takes flight and makes calls that sound like chux, chux, chux.

So whatya think of these amazing sounds? Please leave a comment and let me know.

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Personal Narrative

photo of Lang ElliottFor quite some time, I’ve had the idea to post “personal narratives” recorded in the field at various locations, especially right after I’ve snagged very nice recordings or videos. Below is a narrative I recorded on April 22, 2010 at Land Between the Lakes Kentucky, during a recording session at the Nature Station (Nature Center). Let me know what you think (leave comments below). When I head into the field in 2011, should I be posting lots of narratives like this one, which would give you, the reader/listener, a sense of my own experience while in the field?

Lang Elliott talking about sound recording on the morning of April 22, 2010, at the Nature Station in Land Between the Lakes, Kentucky

In the narrative, I mention a number of recordings made at the Nature Station. I’ve posted most of these separately, and here are the links:

Bluebird Dawn
Chipping Sparrow — Commonplace Bird
Cowbird Duet — GurgleSqueak and Chatter

In this post, I’ve decided to add one more recording to the pot—the fee-bee, fee-breetit songs of an Eastern Phoebe, recorded at the same location. Note that he roughly alternates the two song types, one (fee-bee) having a burry ending and the other (fee-breetit) ending with a brief jumble of notes:

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“Blue” Songbirds

There seem to be few “blue” songbirds. So I picked three eastern ones: Eastern Bluebird, Indigo Bunting, and Blue Grosbeak. So why not Blue Jays? Well, have you heard any lovely melodies from one yet?

I have always enjoyed watching Eastern Bluebirds, but only recently have I paid much attention to their lovely, lilting songs. By contrast, I have not been able to ignore the near-constant singing of Indigo Buntings in my yard and always everywhere else I go in the countryside. Indigo Buntings are relatively easy to videotape as well, brazenly singing on a conspicuous perch and allowing a close approach. Their iridescence makes for a rich and vibrant blue if the angle of the light is right. Also sporting beautiful iridescent colors, Blue Grosbeaks are much harder to find than either Eastern Bluebirds or Indigo Buntings. In central Missouri, they show up in numbers in late May, but you cannot count on finding a male or pair at the same location for very long.

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> HD version.

Eastern Bluebirds are familiar to most people because they favor open areas and are not very shy. Their lovely blue wings, back and head contrast with chestnut-colored breasts, and they are the official state bird of Missouri and New York. Although their songs seem simple and unremarkable to some ears, Don Kroodsma, in his book “The Singing Life of Birds,” made a point of listening and recording some males for several days in the vicinity of Amherst, Massachusetts. He comments: “How could I have overlooked bluebirds all these years? Such variety to their songs, so expressive by how loudly and rapidly they sing that I need to know more….” He found even more complexity during singing exchanges between males in the pre-dawn.

Indigo Buntings favor forest edges and weedy fields. Once you learn to recognize their spirited songs (which are given throughout the day), you will discover how abundant they actually are. In fact, when recording other kinds of birds, singing indigo buntings are often a nuisance because their songs are so loud and repeated so often.

Blue Grosbeaks are like Indigo Buntings on steroids: larger, huskier, and with a proportionally larger bill that inspires their name. They also have attractive, rich brown bars on their wings that are lacking in Indigo Buntings. Their songs are much quieter and sweeter than those of Indigo Buntings, and they are not as likely to sing much past the early morning hours (although they sometimes sing in the late afternoon). In Missouri I have most often found them in pastures or other more open habitats than those occupied by Indigo Buntings.

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Birds, Birds, and More Birds

Hey everybody! I haven’t posted in a number of days, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been busy. Aside from spending time with my sister here in Columbia, Missouri, I’ve been taking every opportunity to get some field work done. Carl Gerhardt has shown me some great locations, and Beth Bannister has been my ever-so-competent field assistant.

Here are some frame-grabs from video clips that I hope to post sometime soon, but how on earth will I find the time? I’m excited!

photo of singing Red-winged Blackbird

photo of Eastern Meadowlark singing

photo of singing Horned Lark

photo of Orchard Oriole calling

photo of a Dickcissel singing

photo of singing Black-and-White Warbler


photo of a Common Yellowthroat singing

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Whip-poor-will Pwips & Mystery Bird Sound

I was stumbling around in the dark an hour before sunrise, setting up the SASS and stringing the mic cable back to the blind (my truck in this case)—it was 5AM.

I got the recorder up and running, set a pleasing level that I assumed would keep close-by birds from distorting once they woke up.

All was quiet, I waited for the first sounds. Shortly, Barred Owls called in the distance, then Whip-poor-wills started farther away and moved closer. Once they land they make clucking sounds, pwip . . . pwip . . . pwip, before they sing. I had never heard this before. In the recording below, you can hear five pwips before he starts to sing.

Whip-poor-will pwips and song. Sleepy Creek WMA, Berkeley County, WV. April 23, 2010. ©Wil Hershberger.

After the sun was coming up and the Whip-poor-wills had ceased singing, American crows, Eastern Tufted Titmice, Blue-gray Gnatcatcher and Eastern Towhees were ramping up. All of the sudden something strange started making soft piping notes near the mics. I couldn’t imagine what could be out there, in the thicket beyond the SASS, that was making these wild sounds—almost tropical sounding. There are hints that it could be a Blue Jay as there are several squeaky sounds that are typical for Blue Jays. I couldn’t see this songster, it was hidden from view by the distance and leafing out vegetation.

What do you think? (Listen carefully—we’re referring to the resonant, musical purps or pops that occur here and there in the recording).

Mysterious bird sound from Sleepy Creek WMA, Berkeley County, WV. April 23, 2010. ©Wil Hershberger.

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Bluebird Dawn

thumbnail photo of Bluebird by Marie ReadI rose before dawn this morning (April 21) and drove to a location where I had heard a bluebird singing the evening before. Sure enough, at first light, he flew to the top of an oak tree and began singing excitedly, his dawn song, composed of bright slurred whistles punctuated by loud staccato outbursts of notes.

Joining him was a Chipping Sparrow, also singing his special dawn song, a lively series of rather brief metallic trills of variable length (his normal daytime trills generally last much longer). The timing of the Chipping Sparrow’s dawn song is likened by some to the intermittent firing of a machine gun.

Enjoy this lovely recording, a fingerprint of dawn here at Land Between the Lakes, Kentucky (also be sure to click on the thumbnail image to the left, so you can enjoy Marie Read’s beautiful photo).

Dawn songs of an Eastern Bluebird and a Chipping Sparrow. Recorded by Lang Elliott at Land Between the Lakes, Kentucky, April 21, 2010.

After the bluebird finished his performance, I wandered around a bit and noted the songs of several other birds that I hadn’t heard during the last couple of days:

Nashville Warbler, Brown Thrasher, Scarlet Tanager, Summer Tanager, Common Yellowthroat, Yellow Warbler. Perhaps too I forgot to mention birds I heard and recorded yesterday: Yellow-throated Warbler, Yellow-throated Vireo, Red-eyed Vireo, and no doubt more—there’s getting to be too many birds for me to keep track of!

Spring is rushing north like a tidal wave. If you’re a northerner, grab hold of a tree. Otherwise you may get knocked over when all the birds come crashing in.

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Cradle of Spring

OMG, I have discovered the Cradle of Spring. This one spot, It’s all happening here. I’m so excited I can’t contain myself.

photo of Blue-winged Warbler

I’ve arrived at the Land Between the Lakes National Recreation Area in western Kentucky. I’m camped at my favorite spot. Although it was dead quiet at dusk and through the night (except for distant hooting of barred owls), I was blown away by the dawn chorus.

It started a bit slowly. First I heard a Northern Cardinal, and moments later a Carolina Wren chimed in. Then, to my surprise, a flood of warbler songs: Louisiana Waterthrush, Northern Parula, Prothonotary Warbler, Hooded Warbler, and Blue-winged Warbler (plus I caught sight of a Prairie Warbler). All these warblers back and its only the 19th of April! I’m so surprised.

Also singing were Blue-gray Gnatcatcher, White-eyed Vireo, Solitary Vireo, and my favorite of the vireo clan: the Yellow-throated Vireo. Not to mention various residents, including Wild Turkey, Canada Goose, American Crow, Pileated Woodpecker, Red-bellied Woodpecker, White-breasted Nuthatch, and other species that I can’t remember right now. Did I mention White-throated Sparrows? I could hear their soft, disjointed whistles from a tangle of shrubs not far from my camp.

In the early morning hours, I busied myself with sound recording and managed to capture fine recordings of at least six or seven species. Not bad, huh? I’ll be sharing those recordings with you over the next couple of days, once I get over the shock of this amazing spring time diversity. I also got terrific video footage of White-eyed Vireo and Blue-winged Warbler. The still photos adorning this post are frame grabs from the video clips. In the days to come, I hope to post these and numerous other video clips of singing birds, gathered at this magical spot.

photo of white-eyed vireo

Needless to say, I’m very happy with this development. My week of being in a depressed mood has lifted. Nature is a tonic, and its Manifestation as Spring is the strongest tonic of all.

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Sunflower Birds

sunflower bird placeholder image

> HD version.

Every year I love to grow sunflowers in my garden. I plant a variety of colors and sizes, joyfully anticipating that late summer riot of brilliant blooms. But the ultimate goal for those golden flowers is the food they’ll provide for the birds in winter. If the squirrels don’t get them first, that is! So to protect the seed heads from damage, I gather them in early autumn, complete with stems, and bring them inside to dry.

This winter I forgot I still had the sunflowers until early February. Good timing, though, because by then a lot of the natural food sources had been depleted, and there was a fair bit of snow cover. The hungry birds would welcome those high-energy snacks. I set out the seed heads at the shrubby edge of my yard, then sat back to watch the entertainment and wait for some great photo ops.

dark-eyed junco on sunflower headIt wasn’t long before they’d been discovered by the local Black-capped Chickadees—feisty little survivors, constantly on the move, full of curiosity, with appetites to match their boundless energy. My winter chickadee flock must number in the dozens, but each seemed to know its place in the pecking order and would wait its turn to fly in, pry out a seed, and make off with it. There were two individuals, though, that were pretty evenly matched. Whenever they arrived together there would be a flurry of tiny wings and excited calls as they bickered over who would have first dibs.

Next Tufted Titmice arrived to share the feast. In the video, watch how a titmouse raises its crest, appearing to intimidate its smaller chickadee cousin during a brief face-off. During a heavy snowstorm, Dark-eyed Juncos also joined the sunflower birds. Juncos prefer smaller seeds and usually forage on the ground, which was now thickly blanketed with snow. Notice that the junco isn’t quite up to the job of extracting the large seeds. That’s a task at which the more acrobatic chickadees, titmice, and nuthatches excel.

Sunflowers—summer beauty and winter entertainment!

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