After decades of slow, steady effort I feel as though I am finally starting to get a handle on the rhythms of the natural world. I know when to start looking for certain flowers in the spring and summer, I know when to expect the arrival of certain birds as the weather warms, and I know when the various frogs will start to vocalize in the early parts of the breeding season. Predicting when species will appear is relatively easy. It’s figuring out when they leave that remains difficult to grasp.
One species that still has me puzzled is the song sparrow (Melospiza melodia). Years of making bird lists have allowed me to determine that (at least in the case of my own yard) song sparrows generally arrive somewhere between March 10 and March 16. The exact date of their annual arrival is impossible to determine because there is a predetermined bias with regard to my availability for doing the research. Sadly, I have to work for a living, so I am not able to be at my window to observe them every single day in March.
What is particularly confusing for me is the fact that our area is identified as part of the US that should be hosting the song sparrow throughout the year. In theory, I should be able to go out into my yard and see one of these darling little birds on any random day, but that is not what seems to happen for me. Perhaps it is a problem of the scale of the range maps provided by books and websites, but in my yard, these birds appear and then disappear every year.
The arrival time of the birds is exceptionally easy to determine because the male song Sparrow is such a prolific and enthusiastic songster. Day after day I will step outside to fill birdfeeders in late winter, and I will always pause to listen carefully to the chorus of birdsongs. The voices are familiar, so it is very easy to pick up on any new voices that are added. The wonderful “Maids-put-on-your-tea-kettle-ettle-ettle” song of the song sparrow is pure joy to anyone who has been stuck in the doldrums of winter.
Song sparrows will live in a staggeringly diverse collection of habitats. At one time or another they can be found in any one of the lower 48, almost all of Canada, and even the thinnest margins of coastal Alaska (including the Aleutian Islands). Here in the Northeast, I tend to see song sparrows in areas where open, grassy areas abut shrubby regrowth habitats. The perfect example of their ideal habitat would be the conditions that exist under power lines. Open areas that are slowly growing in would provide the right kind of food and the right conditions for nesting.
Song sparrows are generally insectivorous during the breeding season. Their favorite foods include such items as beetles, grasshoppers, caterpillars, and even dragonflies. They will also consume other invertebrates like spiders, snails, and earthworms. These foods are rich in the proteins that baby birds need while they are growing. These are also the foods that are abundant in the summertime.
As summer fades, the male birds will slowly stop singing. This is what makes the departure dates of song sparrows so difficult to determine. The birds are out there, but they are no longer advertising their presence. So, how do you know if the birds are simply being quiet, or if they are gone altogether? It’s maddening.
Individuals that do linger into the autumn months are forced to change their diets to match the foods that are available. As insects disappear, plant seeds will become the most abundant source of sustenance. One of the treasured items resting on the shelves of my private library is book called, “American Wildlife and Plants. A Guide to Wildlife Food Habits.” Some plant foods identified as being important to song sparrows are smartweed, ragweed, crabgrass, dock, and timothy (a type of grass favored for making hay). All of these grow in my yard.
Additionally, the wet meadow behind my house abounds with a plant called Joe-Pye Weed. Growing up to seven feet tall, the pink flowers of the Joe-Pye Weed are extremely popular with bees and butterflies during the months of August and September. Then, in October, the plants put out their seeds, which are extremely popular among sparrows and finches. Today’s photo shows a song sparrow nestled into the comfy, downy seed head of a Joe-Pye plant. Just like dandelions, the seeds are attached to bits of fluff that can be caught by breezes and carried off to new places.
Add in the fact that I provide an endless buffet of birdseed on my deck, and you would think that song sparrows would stay at my house all year long. However, this doesn’t seem to happen. At some point in late October or early November, the song sparrows disappear. Why they leave, or where they go will remain mysteries to me, but their absence is undeniable. I suspect that this has recently happened for the 2026 birding year. Now I start waiting for their wonderful voices to reappear in March.
Bill Danielson has been a professional writer and nature photographer for 29 years. He has worked for the National Park Service, the US Forest Service, the Nature Conservancy and the Massachusetts State Parks and he currently teaches high school biology and physics. For more information visit www.speakingofnature.com, Speaking of Nature on Facebook, or the Speaking of Nature Podcast.