Dawn Choruses | The Music of Nature

Magpie Composition

by Lang Elliott · November 4, 2012 · 25 Comments

A true signature sound of Australia is the gurgling, bubbling melody of the Australian Magpie, a large black-and-white butcherbird of open country as well as forest edges and clearings. During our recent trip to New England National Park, I was very fortunate to record the contagious singing of a group, in farm country just outside the park:

Songs of Australian Magpies recorded around 7am, 27 October 2012, just outside New England National Park, New South Wales, Australia. © Lang Elliott (note: set against background recorded in dry forest near Coonabarabran, New South Wales, Australia.)

The magpie’s musical song is a complex series of rich and varied gurgling whistles that lasts five or six seconds. It begins with soft low-pitched notes but quickly builds in volume and sometimes cascades downward at the end. The effect is quite pleasing, a real Australian “delicacy” for the ears.

Magpies live in family groups that defend territories. Males often begin singing in the wee hours of dawn, before other birds, although they usually continue to sound off well into the morning. The best performances happen in areas where they are dense, with the singing of one male eliciting the song of a neighbor, which may then elicit the song of another nearby male. This contagious singing pattern is quite evident in my recording, which involves at least four or five different males. Sometimes it sounds as if more than one male sounds off simultaneously from a single location. It’s also possible that females add notes when their mates sing, although I do not hear that happening in my recordings (duetting commonly occurs in related species such as the Grey Butcherbird).

A Soundscape Composition: The recording I’m presenting is actually a “composition,” in that I was compelled to place the songs against a different background to improve the listening experience. This is why I have called this post “Magpie Composition.”

Throughout my original field recording, there were several birds of an unknown species giving loud and obnoxious high-pitched (alarm?) calls almost continuously in the background. Perhaps these birds had a nest nearby and were disturbed by my presence. Whatever their cause, these calls pretty much wrecked the recording, at least from the perspective of human appreciation of the magpie songs. Fortunately, I was able to use advanced editing techniques to literally lift the magpie songs from their distracting background and then re-place them against a more pleasing backdrop from a similar dry sclerophyll forest.

I hope you like the result! While not an entirely authentic documention of the actual sound event, the recording does qualify as a “near-natural representation” of the magpie’s extraordinary musical talent … and it sounds WAY better than the raw field recording. In other words, the magpie songs are absolutely authentic and true to life (they have not been twisted, stretched or crunched), but their exact timing and the background ambience has been changed.

Fair enough?

p.s. Australian nature recordist Vicki Powys also tells me the following species occur in the background: Peaceful Dove (heard at the beginning), White-throated Treecreeper, Willie Wagtail, hint of Pied Butcherbird, Noisy Friarbird, Mistletoebird, Spiny-cheeked Honeyeater, a flycatcher species, Rufous Whistler, and Yellow-faced Honeyeater. Wow, Vicki’s got a great ear, doesn’t she!

ART CREDIT: The attractive painting of magpies is by Australian artist Katherine Castle. It is available in notecard form and as both paper and canvas prints. Check it out on her web site:

http://www.wildlifeart.com.au/2012/08/20/an-aussie-good-morning-magpies/

Peaceful Doves

by Lang Elliott · October 16, 2012 · 13 Comments

The world over, members of the dove and pigeon family (Columbidae, with over 300 species) produce musical coos that fall in the mid to low frequency range, adding a pleasant bottom end to natural soundscapes that otherwise might be too shrill for the average listener.

Australia is the home of 18 species and I’ve been busy gathering sound portraits of all that I come across. My favorites so far are two species of the genus Geopelia (small, long-tailed doves), both inhabiting dry sclerophyll forests (multi-aged stands of eucalypts with an understory dominated by shrubs, grasses, sedges or bracken fern).

In a dry forested area in Kuranda National Park near Cairns in Queensland, I recorded the gentle, downward inflected coocoo-cookaw of a Bar-shouldered Dove (Geopelia humeralis), set against a pleasing dawn chorus:

Coos of a Bar-shouldered Dove. Recorded by Lang Elliott on 27 September 2012 in Kuranda National Park near Cairns, Queensland, Australia.

In Pillaga Nature Reserve near Coonabarabran in New South Wales, I recorded the coos of a Peaceful Dove (Geopilis striata). Its clear coo-wi-da … coo-wi-da … coo-wi-da is more high-pitched than the Bar-shouldered’s song and has a peaceful quality that I presume gave rise to the species’ common name:

Coos of a Peaceful Dove. Recorded by Lang Elliott on 13 October 2012 in Pilliga Nature Reserve north of Coonabarabran, New South Wales, Australia.

These two recordings are both quite soothing and will lull you into a sublime and blissful state if you but allow them to take hold of your psyche. Such is the power of nature’s music, especially when the gentle coos of doves and pigeons come to bear.

NOTE: Please play these soundscapes at a low level so that you are not distracted by subtle sounds, such as wing noises heard periodically in the second recording. To experience the full dimensional effect, listen using headphones or earbuds.

Butcherbird Lullaby

by Lang Elliott · October 7, 2012 · 11 Comments

Just before leaving Queensland, I managed to snag a really nice recording of one of my favorite rainforest birds: the Black Butcherbird. Cousin of the well-known Pied Butcherbird, a fabulous songster in his own right, the Black Butcherbird has a resonant, musical song that can be heard at long distances, even in dense forest. Here is a sample of my catch:

Black Butcherbird singing a long sequence of resonant, musical songs. Recorded by Lang Elliott, 29 Sept 2012 in Kuranda National Park, Queensland.

I heard many Black Butcherbirds in Queensland rainforests, mostly giving their pleasing songs way off in the distance, usually just a few songs followed by long periods of silence. This individual was different from most others because “he” (I presume a male) sang song after song in a slow-paced, measured sequence. His entire performance lasted nearly twenty minutes, possibly longer, allowing me to rush through the forest in his direction and finally approach within a short distance to capture his performance.

One song pattern clearly dominates, with interesting variations thrown-in every now and then. The effect is relaxing and mesmerizing. Listen carefully for a second butcherbird sounding off in the distance. The high-pitched twitterings of other forest birds provide a pleasing backdrop to the recording … I was fortunate that no other bird was singing loudly nearby, as that would have distracted from the butcherbird’s melodious ramblings.

Relax and enjoy this wonderfully relaxing recording.

p.s. Many thanks to Carl Gerhardt for the photos! Actually, they are “video frame grabs” taken from high definition video footage of birds Carl is gathering here in Australia.

Avian Satori

by Lang Elliott · July 12, 2012 · 4 Comments

In Japanese Buddhism, the word “satori” refers to “an awakening,” more particularly a spiritual awakening that often happens suddenly.

In the bird world, especially among temperate zone songbirds, each and every dawn during the breeding season begets an “avian satori,” a vocal awakening and celebration that occurs in the magical “twilight portal” between night and day. The avian satori is characterized by a rather sudden explosion of creative energy and sound that occurs at first light. For those of us humans who regularly witness this awakening, the effect is always deeply moving, a validation of the intrinsic spiritual power inherent in the event.

And so this morning I myself bore witness to the coming of dawn. Once again I was in Shindagin Hollow, this time placing my soundscape microphone near a small stream that in recent days has been reduced to a subtle trickle of water that only sounds off at specific locations. I set my microphone about fifteen feet away from the sounding water and then settled back into the silence as the birds awakened one by one and voiced their greeting to the new day.

This recording begins just before the first bird sang, a gentle trickle from the brook and then a string of songs and calls from a nearby Scarlet Tanager. Over the following ten minutes or so, a Veery and Wood Thrush join in, followed by Blue Jay, Dark-eyed Junco, Ovenbird, Common Yellowthroat, American Robin, and more. This is a midsummer chorus, gently subtle, with no overpowering elements. It is a delicate symphony and should be played in a quiet setting, the volume kept low and natural … otherwise the magic might be lost.

Enjoy!

Shindagin Hollow Overlook

by Lang Elliott · July 10, 2012 · 12 Comments

Of the many soundscape impressions I’ve gathered in Shindagin Hollow, this morning’s dawn chorus ranks among the best. For me, it was magical indeed, as I sat in the still darkness at the top of an overlook, immersed in listening as the twittering of the birds gradually expanded with the light.

Though late in the season for bird song, there is still a captivating performance in the twilight of dawn. This morning (July 10), the first bird (a Scarlet Tanager) began singing around 4:45 am. The chorus peaked within fifteen minutes, ran full tilt for another fifteen minutes, and then gradually tapered off. By 5:45 it was only a pale reminder of its prior self.

Below is a sample of the chorus at its peak. A Scarlet Tanager sings it’s burry dawn song throughout while Hermit Thrushes and Wood Thrushes chime in. Most notably, a Barred Owl hoots periodically from the hollow below. Do not turn the volume up too high … this is intended to be a gentle, subtle listening experience:

Dawn chorus at Shindagin Hollow Overlook. 5am, July 10, 2012. Lang Elliott

I was so moved by this chorus that I began thinking about the magic of the natural soundscape and how we perceive it … how it differs so markedly from our visual experience and how amazingly intimate the sound experience is. Here are my musings, recorded on location, just before I gathered up my gear and headed back into town:

Lang talking about the experience of listening to nature soundscapes, 6am, July 10, 2012.

Snipewinnow Marsh

by Lang Elliott · March 27, 2011 · 5 Comments

In late May 2005, Ted Mack and I visited Riding Mountain National Park in Manitoba. The park is an island of wilderness rising out of the prairie landscape, where habitats of eastern, western and northern Canada meet and mingle into a pattern of forest, grassland, hill and valley.

In dawn’s early light, Ted and I converged upon a huge marshy area surrounded by forest. Full of beaver ponds and alder patches, the marsh was home to a large variety of species. Ted ventured way out into the wetland and snagged a wonderful dawn chorus. Most impressive are the eerie winnows of a Common Snipe, a sound made by air moving through the outspread tail as the snipe swoops downward then upward in fight. Listen also for the drums of a Ruffed Grouse and the songs of numerous songbirds, including: Marsh Wren, Common Yellowthroat, Chestnut-sided Warbler, Song Sparrow, White-throated Sparrow, Red-winged Blackbird, Mourning Dove, Swamp Sparrow. A Pied-billed Grebe sounds off near the end. What an incredibly rich and varied soundscape:

Dawn chorus in a northern marsh with lots of Common Snipe winnows. 6am, 30 May 2005. Riding Mountain National Park, Manitoba. Recorded by Lang Elliott.

I can’t wait to get back up to Manitoba, not only to pay my respects to Riding Mountain, but also to explore the abundance of pothole ponds to the south of the park in the Minnedosa area. And then there is Poverty Plains, a great spot for finding hawk nests and the home to western species such as Brewer’s Blackbird. Have any of you ever been to any of these places?

Night Squeals

by Lang Elliott · March 13, 2011 · 5 Comments

During my first recording expedition to Florida in 1988, my buddy Ted and I camped in a low area next to a small river and were delighted when a pair of Barred Owls paid us a visit in the dark of the night. We managed to get some nice recordings as they hooted back-and-forth in a pine tree overhead, but those were the days before we began using soundscape microphones to capture the full dimensional experience. Since that first expedition, I have returned to Florida many times and recorded many Barred Owl visitations. Sometimes I think that owls are friendlier down there. It certainly seems so because about every time I camp out in a Florida swamp, the owls come visit me!

One of my favorite Barred Owl recordings is from Ocala National Forest in central Florida. I canoed down a river to a likely spot and set up camp. To my delight, when darkness arrived, I heard the squeal of a young owl (its begging call) not far from my tent. I set up my microphone and waited. A little before midnight the parents finally arrived, hooting in the distance and then up close. When they finally fed their “little one,” he screamed with considerable delight before receiving his mouthful of ecstasy (I think he got fed, but maybe not; see bottom of post):

Barred Owls hooting, Pig Frogs croaking, and an immature owl periodically giving begging sqeuals. 11:30pm, 5 June 1994, Ocala National Forest north of Orlando, Florida. Lang Elliott.

Pretty nice, huh? I’ve shortened the recording somewhat so you can hear a good deal of the hooting and squealing. I rather like those Pig Frogs; they were sounding off from the river’s edge. The insect chorus brightens the recording … it’s not too loud is it?

As for the little one being fed, I must point out that it was pitch black and I didn’t actually see anything. But his loud and animated squeals indicate something important happened there, which I presume was him being fed by one or the other of his parents. But how could they feed him when they’re both hootin-it-up? Does anybody out there have an explanation? (Gerrit, if you’re listening, please chime in)

Words Cannot Describe

by Lang Elliott · March 1, 2011 · 44 Comments

Words cannot adequately describe the following recording—to even try to put words to it would mute its brilliance, dampen its magic. I only ask that you relax into this soundscape, that you sink your being into this unbelievable mix of sounds.

Rest assured there are no tricks here, no layering of recordings. This sound-event really did happen, just as you hear it, in dawn’s early light, at the edge of a northern bog:

A choir of Hermit Thrushes, with Coyotes and lone Barred Owl. 5:30am, 25 June 2000, in the Adirondacks, not far from Tupper Lake, NY. Recording © Lang Elliott.

Maybe you’re different from me. Maybe you’re unaffected. This recording takes my breath away. I can scarcely believe I made it. I can scarcely believe I just found it (yet another jewel I had overlooked!).

Listen for: A veritable choir of Hermit Thrushes, Coyotes, a Barred Owl, subtle Green Frogs and Bullfrogs, a Yellow-bellied Flycatcher, Lincoln’s Sparrow (I think), one White-throated Sparrow (toward end), plus a few other soundmakers (tell me what else you hear!).

Pine Woods Medley

by Lang Elliott · February 26, 2011 · 9 Comments

Spring is coming to the southern pine woods . . . perhaps it has already arrived! With over two feet of snow on the ground here in Ithaca, New York, it is difficult for me to imagine that spring is just around the corner.

Wanting to taste the flavor of the pine woods soundscape, I searched my collection and came up with a pleasing recording from April 29 of 1994. I well remember the experience. I was exploring the Apalachicola National Forest near Tallahassee, Florida, and camped one night near the Sopchoppy River. At the break of dawn, a Great-crested Flycatcher established the rhythm of the chorus with regular slurred notes accompanied by soft throaty garbles (his special dawn song). Bachman Sparrows soon joined in with their musical songs—thin whistles followed by trills. Many other birds sounded off in the distance, including Chuck-will’s-widow, American Crow, and Northern Cardinal. Listen also for the continuous trilling of crickets. What a wonderfully piney medley!

Pine woods dawn chorus featuring Great-crested Flycatcher and Bachman’s Sparrow. 6am, 29 April 1994. Apalachicola National Forest near Tallahassee, Florida. Recorded by Lang Elliott.

My friend Bob McGuire is heading to Florida in a couple of weeks. He will be recording bird songs and calls in the Florida panhandle. It will probably be a tad early for him to get a soundscape as rich as this one, but who knows? Whatever Bob finds, I’m sure he’ll home-in on some exciting sound events. So let’s all wish him well as he rushes toward the leading edge of spring.

Good Luck Bob!

Turkey Haunt

by Lang Elliott · February 24, 2011 · 8 Comments

In the spring of 2000, I embarked on a quest to record dawn choruses and other nature soundscapes, having in mind that I would produce a series of relaxing and meditative CDs (which I am finally going to pull off, over ten years later!). My trip lasted nearly two months and was fraught with horrible weather. Wherever I went there was either high wind or rain (or both). I spent weeks trying to outrun bad weather systems, but to no avail. Many times, I would drive all day to get out of one storm only to have a new one overtake me from a different direction. I am amazed that I got anything of value during that trip.

One lucky spot was Wichita Mountains National Wildlife Refuge in southwestern Oklahoma. Containing a variety of habitats (eastern deciduous forest, mixed grass prairie, lakes and ponds, and steep rocky slopes), the refuge has always yielded good recordings (at least when jets from nearby Fort Sill aren’t flying overhead). The following is a good example. It is one my favorite Wild Turkey recordings, with two males gobbling intermittently from oak woods next to a small creek. Chuck-will’s-widows sing prominently throughout. Listen also for the songs of two Tufted Titmice:

Wild Turkeys call intermittently next to a small brook while Chuck-will’s-widows sing in the background. 6am, 5 May 2000, Wichita Mountains NWR near Lawton, OK. Recorded by Lang Elliott.

I have other turkey recordings where there are more individuals involved and where the gobbles are louder and closer. This one is more laid back, which is why I like it so much. I didn’t know the turkeys were there. I arrived at the break of dawn, heard the chuck-wills and quickly set my soundscape mike near the stream. Minutes later, the turkeys chimed-in, which was a welcome surprise!

Let me know if you like it!