|credit: Kenneth Cole Schneider|
Sixty different species of birds regularly visit our farm. Each species sings a unique song (or two...or a thousand).
The Red-eyed Vireo sings 20,000 different songs -- every day!
In contrast, the Song Sparrow, despite the connotations of its name, has a meagre repertoire of just ten songs.
The Dark-eyed Junko is a minimalist, abandoning the frivolity of singing for the utility of morse code, tapping out his calls in snappy clicks.
The Swainson’s Thrush climbs the ladder of her song two rungs at a time, swinging like a trapeze artist from each rung as she goes.
The Barred owl’s daytime call is an escalating shrill so piercing you’d swear he was running his talons across a little blackboard tucked beneath his wing. But you forgive him his spine-tingling alarm when at night the full O of his breathy hoot comes drifting out of the dark like a verbal smoke ring.
The Winter Wren sings as if his life depended on it. Looking like a puff of brown cotton and weighing about as much, ounce for ounce he belts out his song with ten times the power of a crowing rooster.
It’s enough to break your heart.
And mend it.
Who is singing out your window?