Standing by the side of the river at Eleazer Davis's Hill, -- prepared to pace across it, -- I hear a sharp fine screep from some bird, which at length I detect amid the button-bushes and willows. The screep is a note of recognition meant for me.
The bird is so very active that I can not get a steady view of it. Yet I can see a brilliant crown, even between the twigs of the button-bush and through the withered grass, when I can detect no other part. It is evidently the golden-crested wren, which I have not made out before.
This little creature is contentedly seeking its food here alone this cold winter day on the shore of our frozen river. If it does not visit us often it is strange that it should chose such a season.
H. D. Thoreau, Journal, December 25, 1859
The screep is a note of recognition meant for me. See JJ Audubon ("This active little bird breeds in Labrador... It enters the United States late in September, and continues its journey beyond their limits,... remain[ing] in all the Southern and Western States the whole of that season, and leave them again about the beginning of March. They generally associate in groups, composed each of a whole family, and feed in company with the Titmice, Nuthatches, and Brown Creepers, perambulating the tops of trees and bushes, sometimes in the very depth of the forests or the most dismal swamps, while at other times they approach the plantations, and enter the gardens and yards. Their movements are always extremely lively and playful ..., and are unceasingly occupied. They have no song at this season, but merely emit now and then a low screep.”)
I can see a brilliant crown, evidently the golden-crested wren, which I have not made out before. See also December 30, 1859 ("I noticed the other day that even the golden-crested wren was one of the winter birds which have a black head, — in this case divided by yellow.") [Apparently this is Thoreau’s first true sighting of the golden-crested wren, having misidentified the ruby-crested as it until he saw its ruby crest and then waivers in his naming.] See May 7, 1854 ("A ruby-crested wren. . .Saw its ruby crest and heard its harsh note. (This was the same I have called golden-crowned ; and so described by W[ilson], I should say, except that I saw its ruby crest. . . ..Have I seen the two?)”); May 11, 1854 (“I am in a little doubt about the wrens (I do not refer to the snuff -colored one), whether I have seen more than one. All that makes me doubt is that I saw a ruby, or perhaps it might be called fiery, crest on the last — not golden.”); April 24, 1855 ("I see on the pitch pines at Thrush Alley that golden crested wren or the other, ashy-olive above and whitish beneath, with a white bar on wings, restlessly darting at insects like a flycatcher, —into the air after them. It is quite tame. A very neat bird, but does not sing now.”); April 26, 1855 (“Going over Ponkawtasset, hear a golden-crested wren, — the robin’s note, etc., —in the tops of the high wood”); April 27, 1855 (“ Few birds are heard this cold and windy morning. Hear a partridge drum before 6 A. M., also a golden-crested wren.”); May 6, 1855 ("Hear at a distance a ruby(?)-crowned wren, . . . I think this the only Regulus I have ever seen.”)
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