Henry Thoreau, March 17, 1857
The developing of their song
is gradual but sure,
like the expanding of a flower.
February 2. As I return from the post-office, I hear the hoarse, robin-like chirp of a song sparrow on Cheney's ground, and see him perched on the top most twig of a heap of brush, looking forlorn and drabbled and solitary in the rain. February 2, 1858
February 23. I have seen signs of the spring. February 23, 1857
February 24. I am surprised to hear the strain of a song sparrow from the riverside. February 24, 1857
February 26. See five red-wings and a song sparrow(?) this afternoon. February 26, 1851
March 2. Looking up a narrow ditch in a meadow, I see a modest brown bird flit along it furtively, — the first song sparrow, -- and then alight far off on a rock. Ed. Hoar says he heard one February 27th. March 2, 1860
March 3. . The first song sparrows are very inconspicuous and shy on the brown earth. You hear some weeds rustle, or think you see a mouse run amid the stubble, and then the sparrow flits low away. March 3, 1860
March 5. The song sparrows begin to sing hereabouts. March 5, 1860
March 7. A little sleety snow falling all day, which does not quite cover the ground, — a sugaring. Song sparrow heard through it; not bluebird. March 7, 1860
March 10. See a sparrow, perhaps a song sparrow, flitting amid the young oaks where the ground is covered with snow. I think that this is an indication that the ground is quite bare a little further south. Probably the spring birds never fly far over a snow-clad country. March 10, 1852
March 11. Fair weather after three rainy days. Air full of birds, — bluebirds, song sparrows, chickadee (phoebe notes), and blackbirds. Bluebirds' warbling curls in elms. Song sparrows toward the water, with at least two kinds or variations of their strain hard to imitate. On Tuesday, the 7th, I heard the first song sparrow chirp, and saw it flit silently from alder to alder. This pleasant morning after three days' rain and mist, they generally forthburst into sprayey song from the low trees along the river. The developing of their song is gradual but sure, like the expanding of a flower. This is the first song I have heard. March 11, 1854
March 11. 6 a. m. — By riverside I hear the song of many song sparrows, the most of a song of any yet. . . .The birds anticipate the spring; they come to melt the ice with their songs. March 11, 1859
March 12. This is the blackbird morning. Their sprayey notes and conqueree ring with the song sparrows' jingle all along the river. Thus gradually they acquire confidence to sing. It is a beautiful spring morning. March 12, 1854
March 13. Going down railroad, listening intentionally, I hear, far through the notes of song sparrows (which are very numerous), the song of one or two larks. March 13, 1859
On the 13th of March, after I had heard the bluebird, song-sparrow, and red-wing, the ice was still nearly a foot thick. Walden,
March 14. A. M. — Threatening rain after clear morning. Great concert of song sparrows in willows and alders along Swamp Bridge Brook by river. Hardly hear a distinct strain. March 14, 1854
March 15. Hear on the alders by the river the lill lill lill lill of the first F. hyemalis, mingled with song sparrows and tree sparrows. March 15, 1854
March 16. Another fine morning. Willows and alders along watercourses all alive these mornings and ringing with the trills and jingles and warbles of birds, even as the waters have lately broken loose and tinkle below. The song sparrows are very abundant, peopling each bush, willow, or alder for a quarter of a mile, and pursuing each other as if now selecting their mates. It is their song which especially fills the air. March 16, 1854
March 18. But this snow has not driven back the birds. I hear the song sparrow's simple strain, most genuine herald of the spring, and see flocks of chubby northern birds with the habit of snowbirds, passing north. March 18, 1852
March 18. I now again hear the song sparrow’s tinkle along the riverside, probably to be heard for a day or two. March 18, 1857
March 18. 7 A.M. – By river. Almost every bush has its song sparrow this morning, and their tinkling strains are heard on all sides. You see them just hopping under the bush or into some other covert, as you go by, turning with a jerk this way and that, or they flit away just above the ground, which they resemble. It is the prettiest strain I have heard yet. March 18, 1858
March 19. It is a fine evening, as I stand on the bridge. The waters are quite smooth; very little ice to be seen. The red-wing and song sparrow are singing. March 19, 1858
March 20. Four or five song sparrows are flitting along amid the willows by the waterside. Probably they came yesterday with the bluebirds. I hear a faint tinkling te te te te te' and at last a full strain whose rhythm is whit whit whit, ter tche, tchear tche, deliberately sung, measuredly, while the falling snow is beginning to whiten the ground, —not discouraged by such a reception. March 20, 1855
March 20. I see under the east side of the house amid the evergreens, where they were sheltered from the cold northwest wind, quite a parcel of sparrows, chiefly F. hyemalis, two or three tree sparrows, and one song sparrow, quietly feeding together. . . . The tree sparrows are much brighter brown and white than the song sparrow. The latter alone scratches once or twice, and is more inclined to hop or creep close to the ground, under the fallen weeds. Perhaps it deserves most to be called the ground-bird. March 20, 1859
March 21. Why are the early birds found most along the water? These song sparrows are now first heard commonly. The blackbirds, too, create some melody. And the bluebirds, how sweet their warble in the soft air, heard over the water! The robin is heard further off, and seen flying rapidly, hurriedly through the orchard. And now the elms suddenly ring with the chill - lill - lill and canary-like notes of the Fringilla hyemalis, which fill the air more than those of any bird yet , — a little strange they sound be cause they do not tarry to breed with us , — a ringing sound. March 21, 1853
March 21. 6.30 A. M. — To Swamp Bridge Brook. Clear, but a very cold westerly wind this morning. Ground frozen very hard. Yet the song sparrows are heard from the willow and alder rows. . . . The song sparrow is now seen dodging behind the wall, with a quirk of its tail, or flitting along the alders or other bushes by the side of the road, especially in low ground, and its pleasant strain is heard at intervals in spite of the cold and blustering wind. It is the most steady and resolute singer as yet, its strain being heard at intervals throughout the day, more than any as yet peopling the hedgerows. March 21, 1855
March 22. 6.30 A. M. — To Hill. Overcast and cold. Yet there is quite a concert of birds along the river; the song sparrows are very lively and musical… [P.M.]I hear a song sparrow on an alder-top sing ozit ozit oze-e-e | (quick) tchip tchip tchip tchip tchay | te tchip ter che ter tchay; also the same shortened and very much varied. Hear one sing uninterruptedly, i.e. without a pause, almost a minute. March 22, 1855
*****
See also Signs of the Spring:
- A Change in the Air
- A Sunny Nook in Spring
- Alder and Willow Catkins Expanding
- Braided Ripples of Melting Snow Shine in the Ruts
- Bright Blue Water
- Buzzing Flies
- Ducks Afar, Sailing on the Meadow
- Frogs, and Turtles Stirring
- Greening Grasses and Sedges
- Insects and Worms Come Forth and are Active
- Listening for the Bluebird
- March is famous for its Winds
- Mosses Bright Green
- My Greatcoat on my Arm
- Perla-like Insects Appear
- Red Maple Sap Flows
- Ripples made by Fishes
- The Anxious Peep of the Early Robin
- The Crowing of Cocks, the Cawing of crows
- The Gobbling of Turkeys
- The Grackle Arrives
- The Hawks of March
- The New Warmth of the Sun
- The Note of the Dark-eyed Junco Going Northward
- The Red-Wing Arrives
- The Skunk Cabbage Blooms
- The Softened Air of these Warm February Days
- The Song Sparrow Sings
- The Spring Note of the Chickadee
- The Spring Note of the Nuthatch
- The Striped Squirrel Comes Out
- The Water Bug (Gyrinus)
- Walking without Gloves
- Woodpeckers Tapping
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau,
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau
"A book, each page written in its own season,
out-of-doors, in its own locality."
~edited, assembled and rewritten by zphx © 2009-2024
tinyurl.com/HDTsong
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