It’s getting loud out there. The minute songbirds return in the spring, they begin to advertise, singing to attract a mate and establish a territory. For some people, it’s joyful noise. For others, it’s a challenge. Who’s making all that sound?
It’s much easier to identify bird songs once you understand a few tricks.
The most important thing to know is that most of the sound comes from just a handful of birds. That varies by location and habitat, but rarely are you hearing more than 10 different species at a time. Getting to know the common songs makes learning the rest a lot easier.
The second tip is that songs fall into categories. There are long songs and short ones, warbles and sing-songs, trills and buzzes, whistles and honks. Some vocalizations are so unusual, they fall into their own category of one. Think common loon.
Once songs are categorized in your head, it’s a lot easier to identify them because you’re just trying to recognize a song from a small group of possibilities, rather than the whole universe of bird noises.
For instance, in Maine there are four trillers: pine warbler, chipping sparrow, dark-eyed junco and swamp sparrow. That’s a group of only four. They may sound similar, but they’re not identical. It doesn’t take much practice to notice the differences between them.
The third trick happens almost by accident. Because songs fall into categories, some birds sound similar to other birds. At first, that may be confusing and even annoying. But once you find yourself saying, “Hey, that sounds like a robin,” your identification skills take a sudden leap forward.
There are now a bunch of songs I know by accident because they sound like songs I already knew. It happened to me again last week. While on a birding trip through southern Texas, I watched a painted bunting sing. I thought to myself, “That sounds like a purple finch.” Painted buntings don’t nest in Maine, but purple finches do — so it’s a familiar song. For the rest of the week, I heard painted buntings all over Texas. I recognized them because they sound like a bird that nests in my yard.
Maine has scarlet tanagers. Texas has summer tanagers. Their songs are almost identical. I’ve never been able to hear the difference before. While in Texas, I listened to enough summer tanagers to realize their songs are just a tiny bit sweeter than scarlet tanagers. Finally — a clue.
There is a small category of bird songs that sound like a dropped ping-pong ball. The notes accelerate as the song concludes. Field sparrows are Maine breeders, though mostly in southern counties. Olive sparrows barely range outside southern Texas, but I can now recognize olive sparrows because they sound like field sparrows.
Bewick’s wrens in the west sound like song sparrows in the east. The truth is, when I’m traveling west of the Mississippi, I might as well be in Tibet. I recognize very few western bird songs. When I learn a new one, it’s often because it sounds like something back in Maine.
So focus on the birds making the most noise this month. Sort them into categories as best you can and try to compare similar songs. It’s not easy, but it’s not all that hard either. You already know many vocalizations. Use them.
Alternatively, install Merlin on your smartphone. It’s the free downloadable app from the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. Merlin does a good job of identifying birds, although it regularly makes mistakes. Treat every identification as a suggestion, not a confirmation.
Hiking a trail just south of San Antonio, I heard a song I didn’t recognize. Merlin identified it as a Nashville warbler. I thought it sounded like a bad-singing yellow warbler. Within a minute, a yellow warbler popped into view. Bob wins again.
There are two schools of thought regarding the use of Merlin. Some pros advise that Merlin not be used at all since it’s preferable to learn songs on your own. I think it is a good tool for pointing out what might be around and overlooked. It can help cement an identification in your mind. At least, that’s the way I use it.
I don’t need Merlin in Maine, but I’m not ashamed to trot it out when I’m birding in an unfamiliar area. I feel qualified to offer advice to beginners on how to identify birds by ear because I’m a beginner, too, out west. We suffer together.
