Chirping on a Thursday Morning: 8-10am

This morning included several interesting events. It started, like every morning at Casa Corazones, with loud morning singing by the birds. I'm not sure whether the singing subsides in the later morning or the human noises drown it out. But the singing definitely changes character in response to events in the yard.

I've heard four different types of chirps today, but it's interesting that they often converge. I assume all birds need to warn their friends of a coming predator (communication) with the perhaps-unintended consequence of warning other birds, too (cue). The chirping intensified twice: when Spade got on the rosebush and when my neighbor walked her dog down the street. At that point, all the birds sounded what seemed to be a loud alarm.

This little guy positioned himself right above the fence, emitting tweets in alternating singles and pairs: "tweet, tweet tweet, tweet, tweet tweet".


He then flew up to a safer distance from the predator and continued singing, albeit with lesser frequency.

I wonder if there's a relationship between the intensity and frequency of the tweets and the proximity to the predator. And if there is one, is it linear? exponential? does the urgent chirping stop when one is at a safe distance?

After the predator got off the rosebush, the tweeter was joined by several friends. The tweets changed from the single-double pattern to a single pattern.

Then, a new pattern emerged: fast chirps in a row ("tweet-tweet-tweet-tweet-tweet") and the entire host flew away--which could be related to my neighbor's mighty Harley roaring down the street. The host relocated to a new spot on the telephone pole, but left fairly quickly.

I'm impressed with how difficult it is to find a safe resting place when you're a small bird. Everything is frightening and dangerous and you're constantly on the move, sort of like a film noir character.

(as an aside: one cabbage butterfly, two hummingbirds, one butterfly with black and orange wings, two bees.)