“Sweet, sweet, sweet\u2026blah blah blah blah blah blah.”<\/p>\n
“Sweet, sweet, sweet\u2026blah blah blah blah blah blah.”<\/p>\n
“Sweet, sweet, sweet\u2026blah blah blah blah blah blah.”<\/p>\n
Sound familiar?<\/p>\n
No, it’s not the talk of an over-sugared someone craving yet another dessert (though I think I did babble something similar once after eating a dozen glazed donuts). (And no, I don’t make a habit of eating donuts by the dozen. That was just that one time, on a bet.) Rather, those sweet, sweet notes are the work of the male song sparrow. And, in the last few days, these fellows have really kicked it into high gear.<\/p>\n
Yesterday at Timber Trails Park in St. Charles, for example, in between the songs of chickadees and cardinals, I counted three different males singing their notably dissimilar songs from prominent points around the park’s pond. The sun was shining, the temperature was mild\u2026clearly, it was a great day to set up breeding territories.<\/p>\n
Which is exactly what these guys were up to. I don’t know whether they were recently arrived migrants or year-round residents (song sparrows can be either in our area) but one thing was for sure\u2014these melodic songsters were definitely living up to their name.<\/p>\n
Song sparrows are one of several kinds of birds that learn their songs from “tutors”\u2014 older members of their species that serve as models for younger birds. Because it’s learned and not innate, each bird’s song is just a little bit different from those around it. (Think back to when you learned how to write in cursive. Did your letters look the same as the teacher’s?)<\/p>\n
Song sparrow songs often start out the same; perhaps evolution has favored those particular notes. (I know someone singing “sweet sweet sweet” would definitely get my attention, especially if I was hungry.) But from there the lilting song veers off into a variable series of clear notes and trills, an exclusive composition created by the singer.<\/p>\n
So gifted, song sparrows aren’t shy about exhibiting their talents. Nor are they lazy. In one often-cited study, a male song sparrow repeated his tune 679 times over a three-hour period. That’s just over 226 songs an hour, or four songs a minute. Multiplied out over a 15-hour day, these numbers tally up to more than 3,000 songs a day. Yow. It’s a wonder they’re not called hoarse sparrows.<\/p>\n
But for birds like song sparrows, singing is a necessary part of life. Like the “Occupado” sign on the door of an airplane restroom, the songs serve as a warning to other males that a particular territory is taken. Further, like the song Indian Love Call in the old movie Rose Marie, the songs also serve to attract a mate.<\/p>\n
I don’t know if you’ve seen that film but, in the end, Nelson Eddy and Jeanette MacDonald end up together, and presumably live happily ever after. For song sparrows, happy and ever after aren’t always a given.<\/p>\n
For one thing, it’s been noted that male song sparrows tend to want to sing more than help out around the nest. In one study on nest building, an activity supposedly shared by a mated pair, the male was “more inclined to shirk his share, picking up material, dropping it and picking it up again, singing meanwhile.” In another, researchers wrote that “the male devotes himself more to song than to labor.”<\/p>\n
And because they nest on or near the ground, song sparrows are vulnerable to many types of predators, including “outdoor” cats. Other threats include egg predation by mice and shrews, and nest parasitism by brown-headed cowbirds, roving birds that leave their eggs in other birds’ nests.<\/p>\n
Hazards aside, song sparrows are one of our area’s more successful bird species. In fact, chances are good you’ve got at least a couple pair in your neighborhood. Look for a “typical” sparrow\u2014brown in color, but with streaky breast markings that converge into at a central spot, the “tie tack” on the chest. And don’t forget to listen for that song. Males singing to attract females\u2014now isn’t that sweet, sweet sweet?<\/p>\n