~ Anne Kilgannon
This review is a report from an ongoing experiment: I’m engaged in a Big Year of focusing on one bird, really getting to know one species. And, in examining the life and habits of one, I find I’m learning about all birds: their particular needs, their strengths and vulnerabilities, problems and prognosis. I’m learning more about feathers, beaks, the functions behind color patterns, mating and nesting behavior, calls and flocking behaviors. To migrate or not. Relationships with other birds, friends and foes. Habitat requirements and impacts of climate change. Every bird is a window into bird life. I chose to closely observe and read about chickadees as these are birds I see every day, that frequent my feeders and garden year round, and for whom I feel great affection and interest.
I have watched chickadees for years, but it was only when I made a concerted effort to read the literature about them that my eyes were really opened to them. My research was jumpstarted with a densely packed twenty-paged booklet on The Black-capped Chickadee, by Susan M. Smith, from The Birds of America series available through Buteo Books, created by the American Ornithologists Union and the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia. In a word, these booklets are authoritative; they are based on exhaustive research by noted experts. As with every science, there is a vocabulary to learn that helps unlock the findings and reveals the life of the bird you are watching pick through the sunflowers in your feeder. I’m still unpacking all that is included in this report. I also mined my own bookshelf to help me work through some of the intricacies of these studies.
I turned first to my Peterson Field Guide to Western Birds, second edition, 1961, my Dad’s old copy that I had inherited, and thumbed through to the pages on chickadees: Paridae: “small, plump, small-billed birds, very acrobatic when feeding. Sexes usually alike. Often roam in small bands. Food: insects; also seeds, acorn mast, berries. Range: widespread in N. America, Eurasia, Africa. No. of species: World 64, West 12 + 1 marginal + 1 introduced in Hawaii.” That answered my first question about distinguishing males from females. And it is fun to realize how widespread they are, I had no idea.
Then, focusing more narrowly on Black-Capped Chickadees, Peterson writes: Parus atricapillus: Field marks: distinctively patterned with dark caps, black bibs, white cheeks. Smaller than most sparrows. Gray back, sides buffy. Similar species: Mountain chickadee (has a white eyebrow stripe), Chestnut-backed: rusty back (no cap), Carolina: very similar, especially in Texas. (do ranges overlap?) Voice: chickadee-dee-dee-dee. In spring clear whistle: fee-bee (first note higher) Range: Alaska, Canada, north half of US, West. Habitat: mixed and deciduous woods, willow thickets and grove.
I paused at the next line: Nest: fur-lined, hole in rotting stub or tree, and surveyed my garden for likely nesting sites and sighed; we have no trees of a size to sport a cavity big enough as a safe haven for chickadees, but we certainly had a fur-bearing cat who was shedding enough to make cozy blankets for dozens of nestlings. I took a break from reading and devised a fur-dispenser for foraging birds should they favor such a material. I recalled watching videos of birds stealing upon sleeping dogs and plucking hairs for nesting materials; we might not have nesting spots but can contribute something to the cause. My reading was adding to my sense of involvement.
For the sake of comparison, I then checked David Allen Sibley’s Guide to Birds. This is no field guide but more like an encyclopedia. Beyond the basics, Sibley discusses chickadee vocalizations in exquisite detail and true to his artist’s eye, gives us myriad delightful images of chickadees of all types in various poses. As they are so quick moving in life, it’s wonderful to gaze at these freeze-framed studies, to study, for instance, how their feet grip onto branches and the variations in coloring that mark the seven different types. They are also grouped with their allies, close family members and birds that flock together for safety and gregariousness: various titmice, bushtits, and verdin. As Sibley remarks, all these birds are fairly social and inquisitive. They are all small birds and as such nervous and watchful, quick to zip under cover and to call out warnings to others.
That last mention reminded me of another study I had read and found fascinating. I dug out Jon Young’s book, What the Robin Knows, where he describes how other birds listen for and heed the alarm calls of the chickadee. He notes that, chickadees’ alarms are more complex than those of many other songbirds…Their alarm for a hawk or owl on the wing is a quiet seet that directs everyone to freeze in place. Their alarm for a hawk or owl perched on a branch, however is a loud chick-a-dee-dee-dee, with as many as a dozen dees extending the alarm and distinguishing between larger, less dangerous birds (such as the great horned owl) and smaller, quicker raptors (such as the pygmy-owl): the more dees, the greater the danger. Young analyzes these interactions in great detail so I made a note to pay more attention to the chatter in my garden and see if I could notice some of these patterns. My casual bird watching was taking on more depth and meaning as I read.
I returned to my other Sibley books, his Guide to Bird Life and Behavior, and the delightful What It’s Like to Be a Bird. In the Guide he noted that discussion of chickadee taxonomy was in flux as new information based on DNA research was uncovering unsuspected relations among the different types and a re-examination of hybrids. I recalled various discussions I’d read concerning the impact of climate change and how adaptability and mobility were crucial to species survival. I had a glimmer of hope that chickadees might have the wherewithal for resiliency. Dipping into the second book, I learned about chickadees’ extraordinary abilities to remember the location of thousands of seed caches that got them through winters. Though I keep my feeder stocked, it was encouraging to know chickadees have their own back-up system should I take in mind to travel. And even more amazing was their habit of feeding their hatchlings spiders, which Sibley explained, provide the nutrient taurine, which is essential for brain development and other functions. That seemed not to be happenstance but was perhaps a marvel of evolutionary adaptation. Sibley included another nugget that added nuance to Peterson’s male/female description, writing that, like many other birds (and unlike humans) chickadees can see ultraviolet light—a whole range of color beyond purple. Male and female chickadees look alike to us, with white cheeks, but they look quite different to each other, as males have a much stronger ultraviolet reflection on their cheeks. I won’t be able to see that with my own eyes but it is fascinating to know and imagine the effect.
I am still flipping the pages of The Birder’s Handbook by Paul Ehrlich, David Dobkin and Darryl Wheye, reading the subject essays that are interspersed with species information. I found descriptions on chickadees as “mobbers” and possible “irrupters” but the most arresting bit was that a female chickadee on the nest if disturbed makes an explosive snakelike hiss. Take heed!
All the references remarked that chickadees prefer conifer trees to deciduous ones, for their seeds and as habitat. Douglas Tallamy in Bringing Nature Home noted that “even the breeding habitat for common birds…like the black-capped chickadee—is disappearing quickly. I’ll keep reading—there is so much to learn, but now I plan to find space in my garden for some kind of native conifer as an extra inducement to keep my chickadees nearby and happy. But I am also inspired to explore more afield by the Birder’s Guide to Washington, published by the Washington Ornithology Society. (Black Hills’ Bill Shelmerdine wrote an excellent guide for the Olympia area.) It is possible to use this resource to find all the best places for further study of chickadees, including Mountain chickadees, Chestnut-backed, and even Boreal chickadees, as well as the familiar Black-capped. My Big Year has been so enriched and supported by the work of all these diligent and thoughtful writers. I am eager to learn more and keep watching out for chickadees.
