For the longest time, one bird's song puzzled me. Deep under the thatched marsh mats, a squeaky, trilling sound could be heard each morning. The song almost reminded me of a squeaky wheel that was on my son's little red wagon some thirty-five years ago. That wheel squeaked from the time we got the wagon and I never oiled it even though Pop tried so many times. I informed Pop that it was my "security system"! I always knew where my toddler was as long as I could hear that squeaky wheel! The bird was a different story, however, as I never knew exactly where the song was being sung. Yes, under the marsh mats was a general area but a huge area. I figured it had to be some shore bird that kept far beneath the mats as protection.
Then, one icy morning, I ventured to the pier to sit and observe. Surely, the bird had to surface at some time and it seemed to greet the morn with its song on a daily basis. I waited. And waited. And waited. From the sheer volume of the song, I figured this had to be a bird of some heft. No tiny tyke could possibly sing that loud! I was wrong. Once the bird finished praising the morning's first light, the sound changed to a wee chipping. Out popped a tiny head then the entire bird. This was a Swamp Sparrow! Goodness! How in the world can those tiny lungs push out that loud song? Mystery was solved, however, and I was pleased with the outcome as I love these little birds. They are so resourceful and smart....and now I know they have a powerful song!
The Swamp Sparrow blends well with its surroundings which gives it great protection as it flits through the marsh in search of food. During the cold winter months, the small birds take protection from the elements under the marsh mats that were piled high during the summer. Rarely does the tide get high enough to soak the mats during the winter months so the birds have a dry, snug home.
This afternoon, I ventured out long enough to head to the pier. It had been raining all day but now only a slight drizzle muffled my footsteps. As I neared the water's edge, a soft chipping could be heard. Yep, my little friend, the Swamp Sparrow, was busy hunting any seeds or insects that could be found. Soon, it would dart back beneath its shelter and spend the night in comfort. It never ceases to amaze me how some of the tiniest creatures can survive in the harsh world of the marshes. This little one seems to do well....I am glad.
With all of the recent rainstorms passing through the area, the plants are living the dream life! The entire place is as green and lush as I have ever seen it. This makes for some interesting yard work as I am forever trimming new growth from every plant, bush, vine, tree in the yard. This thick overgrowth has also been a boon to the birds and other wildlife as they now have plenty of places to hide a nest. One smart bird made her nest in the middle of the canebrake. There she sets on 6 pale blue eggs that are sprinkled with a few rust colored specks. It is also there...or nearby...that the male bird keeps watch. His constant singing is a warning to others that he is ready and willing to protect his ladylove and their future brood. The singing is a territorial behavior that most people mistake as a happy bird song.
The birds that have nested in the canebrake are brown thrashers. I watched as they built the nest and then was extra vigilant not to disturb that nest while removing some of the dead canes. Working near the canebrake allows me to enjoy the male thrasher's song and the almost "whispered" female's return song. Hers is ever so soft that if you do not really listen, you may miss it altogether.
Many folks miss identify the brown thrasher's song as that of a mockingbird but, while similar, there is one major telltale difference. Both birds have a wide variety of sounds, phrases and notes in their songs but while the mockingbird may repeat each "phrase" three to five times, a brown thrasher only repeats twice...no more. This helped me to identify the thrasher doing all of this singing without me ever seeing the bird. I knew who I was listening to far before I found the bird.
