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COPYRIGHT 1997 Kalmbach Publishing Company
On that early morning in May, in the woods of Pennsylvania, we had been out for half an hour without seeing a single bird. But were we disappointed? Hardly. The birding was wonderful.
Although they were unseen, birds on all sides were filling the air with sound. From the dense undergrowth came the emphatic whistled song of a Hooded Warbler, "weetaweeTEEoh." Ovenbirds chanted their insistent crescendos. A Hairy Woodpecker rattled and drummed. From a clearing beyond the trees came the bright, quick phrases of an Indigo Bunting, and a Prairie Warbler's wiry attempt to play the scale. Near a stream, an Acadian Flycatcher snapped out a demand that seemed astonishing for such a small bird: "PizZA!"
We knew that if we chose to stalk these singers, we could probably see them. But for now it was satisfying enough just to hear their voices, like hearing the voices of old friends--which is what they were. Knowing how to recognize them added a whole extra dimension to our enjoyment of this time outdoors.
Roger Tory Peterson once wrote that skilled observers might do 80 percent of their fieldwork by ear. Experienced birders may be able to recognize literally hundreds of different bird songs and calls. That kind of ability may seem impossible to beginners. But anyone with fairly good hearing can learn to recognize local birds by sound.
For many birds, the two most common types of...
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