The month of September was a tough one. The weather was quite odd in the sense that we experienced an extended period of heat and humidity that seemed more like August than anything.
While it is not uncommon to have a couple warm days here or there during the tail end of summer, this was downright tropical. I think, judging from what I see out the car window on my way to and from work every day, that the weather was sufficient to impact the quality of the fall foliage.
Then, all of a sudden, the cold arrived and with it came a few familiar faces. White-throated sparrows appeared in numbers on Oct.7, and I saw my first dark-eyed junco of the year on Oct. 8. I realize that these are weekend days and as such they represent the most likely days of the week for me to have time off from work to go birding, but the dates match a seasonal trend fairly nicely. Both species tend to make their first appearances in October.
Far less common at this time of year is a sighting of a white-crowned sparrow (Zonotrichia leucophrys). When I consult my trusty Massachusetts Audubon Society’s checklist of the birds of Massachusetts, I see that at their peak, white-crowned sparrows are listed as uncommon. This level of abundance is seen only for the briefest moment in May, when the birds are headed to their northern breeding grounds in the northern portions of Canada, and then again for a somewhat more extended three to four weeks of late September to mid-October as the birds dribble out of Canada on their way to their wintering grounds in the southern U.S.
I checked through my bird lists for the past 14 years and I found that even though they are listed as uncommon, I tend to see a white-crowned sparrow about every other spring. Sightings in the fall are quite less common for me, which is interesting since the birds are around in higher numbers for a longer period of time. This year, on Oct. 13, I saw some white-crowned sparrows, and I noticed them up until Oct. 23. I get the distinct impression that the word is out about my feeders because I appear to have a whole flock that is lingering around my house.
The first birds I saw were juveniles, which were now familiar to me because of a column that I wrote about them last year. The difference is in the markings on the head. Adults have bold black and white stripes, while the juveniles sport the same stripes in colors that could best be described as cinnamon-brown and heavily creamed coffee. I later caught sight of an adult bird, and had the most remarkable experience on Oct. 23.
There was a brief moment of warmth that day, when the thermometer managed to reach 57 degrees. Hearing the forecast, I decided to sit out and enjoy the warmth while I could. I sat at my table on my deck and immediately found myself surrounded by young white-crowned sparrows. They were extremely mellow, and I couldn’t help but think that this might be the result of their extreme northern distribution during the breeding season. These birds might not be that familiar with humans and, thus, have no reason to fear us.
It wasn’t long before a couple adult birds turned up and I was thoroughly enjoying myself. Then, without any real warning, it started to rain. Rather than retreat inside, I decided to move my seat to the little sheltered alcove by my front door. This allowed me to remain outside, on the lee side of the house, under the protection of a nice section of roof. The intensity of the rain increased and the larger raindrops started knocking leaves off the cottonwood tree by my deck. I was about to surrender when I suddenly heard a beautiful sound.
This was the first time in my life that I have ever been aware of hearing the song of a white-crowned sparrow. I am very familiar with the song of a white-throated sparrow (Zonotrichia albicollis), which is a close relative of the white-crowned. The white-throated sparrow sings a clear whistle that adheres to the pattern of “Oh sweet Canada, Canada.” The white-crowned sparrow starts its song with the same clear “Oh” note, but then shifts over to something more reminiscent of the “tea kettle, -ettle” portion of a song sparrow’s (Melospiza melodia) song. To hear what I’m describing, visit audubon.org and listen to the songs of each of these three species.
So there’s another first for me. Who could have imagined that I would hear the song of a white-crowned sparrow in October, when the breeding season has been over for so long that the birds are abandoning their breeding grounds? It just reinforces my idea that every moment spent outside is a chance to see — or hear — something wonderful.
Bill Danielson has been a professional writer and nature photographer for 21 years. He has worked for the National Park Service, the U.S. Forest Service and Massachusetts State Parks, and currently teaches high school biology and physics. Visit speakingofnature.com for more information, or go to Speaking of Nature on Facebook.