A garbled song
at dusk. A sneezy mew in the shady forest. A flick of the tail in dense
undergrowth. You move forward, passing these seemingly insignificant instances
in search of something brighter and sweeter. Little do you realize, who you are
leaving behind is perhaps the most remarkable of all.
Understated
yet enigmatic, the Grey Catbird ( Dumetella
carlolinensis ) is a soft smoky grey with and ash-colored tail and cap,
deep brown eyes, and rich rusty chestnut undertail coverts. Growing up to 9.4 inches
in length, they are medium-sized songbirds—but don’t let their size fool you.
The Catbird’s quirky nature and endearing notes make for quite an interesting
neighbor. Having adapted beautifully to the expanding urban environment, they
make their nests in gardens and yards from the northwest to the southeast
United States, and the southwestern portion of Canada.
Human development, while
extremely harmful to some species, has instead created habitat for Catbirds, who
like tangled undergrowth and dense shrubs. Deforestation can cause patches of
scrubby regrowth, perfect for Catbirds. They can be found foraging for insects
and berries near disturbed roadsides, fence lines, and the edges of clearings. While
most songbirds eat a diet heavy in insects, the Catbird eats many more berries
when the fruit is ripe and so has a wider range of food to choose from. (This
can be exasperating for bird banders, however, for when a Catbird relieves
himself, as they frequently do when being handled, the product is a deep purple
color that stains clothing!) On their wintering grounds on the Gulf Coast and
central-to-south America, they eat almost nothing but fruits.
The
adaptability of the Catbird is also apparent in their nesting strategy, which
is to build multiple nests a season to ensure survival of their children. Their well-hidden nests lie deep in thickets
where predators like cats and snakes cannot find them. (Please keep your cats indoors to reduce the risk to birds of
all species!)
Catbirds
also confuse humans who would like to find them, for these birds are in the
family Mimidae, which includes mockingbirds and thrashers—birds notorious for their
ability to mimic other species’ sounds. Often heard but unseen, Catbirds
produce individual variations on a jumbled, gargling song full of both buzzy
and sweet notes. Their general species tune is interrupted by hundreds of mimicked
phrases of other birds, frogs, and machinery. Unlike mockingbirds, however, Catbirds
mimic in short bursts and the borrowed phrases are intertwined with the Catbird’s
general song and sometimes cannot be completely distinguished from the rest of
the song.
Why
mimic, though? What purpose would copying other species’ voices serve? The
answer is astounding: In order to survive, a male Catbird must find enough
food, avoid predators, find a mate, establish and defend his territory, and
migrate twice a year. This takes an astonishing amount of energy, and so many
birds do not live very long. To deviate from any of these tasks could result in
a loss of energy and could be fatal. However, successful males have energy to
spare, for their territory is established and they are finding enough sustenance.
This is when they listen. This is when they learn.
The
more successful a Catbird is, the more time he has to spend listening to and
learning other sounds, which he then incorporates into his own breeding song. This
is an auditory signal to potential mates that he is a good suitor: successful and
smart. Interestingly, if he has traveled around and learned birdsong from other
regions outside of his current territory, it will be reflected in his song and
therefore shows the females that he is experienced.
The
Catbird sings before dawn and at dusk, their rich and melancholy voices greeting
the day and then putting it to sleep. Their tentative mews uttered softly from hidden
perches offer a sweet, questioning companion to the lonely hiker.
In
their plush grey feathers, with muted tones of buff and taupe, and their large
dark eyes, with glinting slivers of burnt umber in the iris, there is poetry. They
stay hidden until it is time to be seen, until they are confident enough in
their observer. When binoculars meet the gaze of a thin grey being barely visible
in the brush, there is something about even the quickest of glances that stirs
the heart. Abundant the Grey Catbird may be, but to really see one, and to have
them see you, is an experience few and far in between.
~Peace always,
Kristina ~
*Please note*: This essay was originally written for the Ohio Young Birders Club's Golden-Wings newsletter. Please consider joining if you are a young birder in the Ohio region, or making a donation to the club if you are able to! It is a wonderful group of young naturalists ages 12-18 who are passionate about birds and nature, and are on their way to do big things for conservation! Please help the cause and support these amazing folks! Thanks!
