I would make a chart of our life,
know why just this circle of creatures
completes the world.
Henry Thoreau, April 18, 1852
I see a shrike perched on the tip-top
of the topmost upright twig of an English cherry tree,
standing square on the topmost bud,
balancing himself by a slight motion
of his tail from time to time.
Bluish-slate above down
to middle of wings;
dirty-white breast,
and a broad black mark
through eyes on side of head;
primaries black,
and some white appears when it flies.
I heard this bird sing once before,
but that was also in early spring,
or about this time.
March 7, 1859
March 1. Saw a butcher-bird, as usual on top of a tree, and distinguished from a jay by black wings and tail and streak side of head. March 1, 1855
March 7. I then see a bird alight on the dead top of the highest white oak on the hilltop, on the topmost point. It is a shrike.
While I am watching him eight or ten rods off, I hear robins down below, west of the hill. Then, to my surprise, the shrike begins to sing. It is at first a wholly ineffectual and inarticulate sound without any solid tone to it, a mere hoarse breathing, as if he were clearing his throat, unlike any bird that I know, — a shrill hissing. Then he uttered a kind of mew, a very decided mewing, clear and wiry, between that of a catbird and the note of the nuthatch, as if to lure a nuthatch within his reach; then rose into the sharpest, shrillest vibratory or tremulous whistling or chirruping on the very highest key. Tins high gurgling jingle was like some of the notes of a robin singing in summer. But they were very short spurts in all these directions, though there was all this variety. Unless you saw the shrike it would be hard to tell what bird it was.
This variety of notes covered considerable time, but were sparingly uttered with intervals. It was a decided chinking sound — the clearest strain — suggesting much ice in the stream. I heard this bird sing once before, but that was also in early spring, or about this time. It is said that they imitate the notes of the birds in order to attract them within their reach. Why, then, have I never heard them sing in the winter? (I have seen seven or eight of them the past winter quite near.)
The birds which it imitated — if it imitated any this morning — were the catbird and the robin, neither of which probably would it catch, — and the first is not here to be caught. Hearing a peep, I looked up and saw three or four birds passing . . . which suddenly descended and settled on this oak-top. They were robins, but the shrike instantly hid himself behind a bough and in half a minute flew off to a walnut and alighted, as usual, on its very topmost twig, apparently afraid of its visitors. The robins kept their ground, one alighting on the very point which the shrike vacated. Is not this, then, probably the spring note or pairing note or notes of the shrike? March 7, 1859
March 22. About twenty-nine migratory birds arrive [ in March] and two or three more utter their spring notes and sounds, as nuthatch and chickadee, turkeys, and woodpecker tapping, while apparently the snow bunting, lesser redpoll, shrike, and doubtless several more — as owls, crossbills (?) — leave us, and woodcocks and hawks begin to lay. March 22, 1860
April 4. [Abel Hosner] has also noticed the butcher-bird catching other birds. Calls him the "mock-bird.” April 4, 1854
November 4. Saw a shrike in an apple tree, with apparently a worm in its mouth. November 4, 1854
November 29. I see a living shrike caught to-day in the barn of the Middlesex House. November 29, 1858
December. 12. See a shrike on a dead pine at the Cliffs. December 12, 1858
December 18. I see three shrikes in different places to-day, — two on the top of apple trees, sitting still in the storm, on the lookout. They fly low to another tree when disturbed, much like a bluebird, and jerk their tails once or twice when they alight. December 18, 1859
December 23. See a shrike on the top of an oak. It sits still, pluming itself. At first, when it was flying, I thought it a hairy woodpecker. December 23, 1858
December 24. Saw a shrike pecking to pieces a small bird, apparently a snowbird. At length he took him up in his bill, almost half as big as himself, and flew slowly off with his prey dangling from his beak. I find that I had not associated such actions with my idea of birds. It was not birdlike. December 24, 1850
December 24. See another shrike this afternoon, — the fourth this winter! It looks much smaller than a jay. December 24, 1858
December 29. Down railroad to Andromeda Ponds . . . Just before reaching the Cut I see a shrike flying low beneath the level of the railroad, which rises and alights on the topmost twig of an elm within four or five rods. All ash or bluish-slate above down to middle of wings; dirty-white breast, and a broad black mark through eyes on side of head; primaries(?) black, and some white appears when it flies. Most distinctive its small hooked bill (upper mandible). It makes no sound, but flits to the top of an oak further off. Probably a male. December 29, 1855
December 30. P. M. — Going by Dodd's, I see a shrike perched on the tip-top of the topmost upright twig of an English cherry tree before his house, standing square on the topmost bud, balancing himself by a slight motion of his tail from time to time. I have noticed this habit of the bird before. You would suppose it inconvenient for so large a bird to maintain its footing there. Scared by my passing [?] in the road, it flew off, and I thought I would see if it alighted on a similar place. It flew toward a young elm, whose higher twigs were much more slender, though not quite so upright as those of the cherry, and I thought he might be excused if he alighted on the side of one; but no, to my surprise, he alighted without any trouble upon the very top of one of the highest of all, and looked around as before. December 30, 1859
December 31. See where probably a shrike (do I ever see a small hawk in winter ?) has torn a small bird in pieces and its slate-colored down and its feathers have been blown far and wide over the snow. December 31, 1859
January 24. Scare a shrike from an apple tree. He flies low over the meadow, somewhat like a woodpecker, and alights near the top twig of another apple tree. January 24, 1860
January 25. Saw A. Hosmer approaching . . . He says that he has seen that little bird (evidently the shrike) with mice in its claws. January 25, 1860
February 3. Returning, see near the Island a shrike glide by, cold and blustering as it was, with a remarkably even and steady sail or gliding motion like a hawk, eight or ten feet above the ground, and alight in a tree, from which at the same instant a small bird, perhaps a. creeper or nuthatch, flitted timidly away. The shrike was apparently in pursuit. February 3, 1856
February 5. I see another butcher-bird on the top of a young tree by the pond. February 5, 1859
February 17. I hear that some say they saw a bluebird and heard it sing last week!! It was probably a shrike. February 17, 1860
March 1. As for the birds of the past winter . . . One dead shrike, and perhaps one or two live ones. March 1, 1854
See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Winter Birds
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Northern Shrike
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 © 2009-2025
https://tinyurl.com/hdt-shrike
