tender voices

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"Sing on there in the swamp,
O singer bashful and tender, I hear your notes, I hear your call,
I hear, I come presently, I understand you"*

Although Whitman was thinking about his beloved hermit thrush, I think the lines fit just as well with the chorus frogs that have been calling from the local wetlands the past few weeks.

Creeeeeeeeak! Creeeeeeeak! Creeeeeeeak!

These tiny, tiny frogs do exemplify Whitman's all out lust—to the point of being erotic—for nature and all of its yearnings. Its seasonal rhythms. Its cries and whispers.

There are several chorus frogs in the above photo. Do you see them? Perhaps not. They're much too bashful and tender to see. But you sure can hear them.

"Sing on dearest brother, warble your reedy song,
Loud human song, with voice of uttermost woe.

O liquid and free and tender!

O wild and loose to my soul -- O wondrous singer!"*

* Lines from "When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd" by Walt Whitman

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solitary, the thrush

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"In the swamp,

in secluded recesses,

A shy and hidden bird is warbling a song.

Solitary, the thrush,
The hermit, withdrawn to himself, avoiding the settlements,
Sings by himself a song.

Song of the bleeding throat!
Death’s outlet song of life—(for well, dear brother, I know
If thou wast not gifted to sing, thou would’st surely die.)”


- From When Lilacs Last in the Door-yard Bloom’d
an elegy written by Walt Whitman
shortly after the assassination of Abraham Lincoln in 1865.

Poet Whitman knew this species. Heard it sing its warbling song, shy and hidden.

Sadly, at this time of the year on its winter range here in the South, the hermit thrush does not sing. There's no need. No territory to defend. No female to woo. No dead president to mourn.

Cornell describes it as, "An unassuming bird with a lovely, melancholy song." And that's pretty much spot on. Unassuming.

I first took the above photograph and posted it, four years ago. I'm pleased to say the hermits are back. I saw one quietly, and indeed, unassuming, hoping around my home in the woods near my studio last Tuesday morning.

Lucky me.

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hermit found

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Alone the hermit, songster from the north.

For a naturalist/educator, it's always nice to find a reclusive bird for your students. I had just finished my Winter Birds Class indoors, showing photos of the birds that spend their winters at the nature center, when as a group, we walked outside and soon found one of our target species. The shy hermit himself.

The two hermit thrush photos were taken by Warren Hamlin, who attended my class at Ijams with his wife. We found the thrush near the parking lot. The solitary bird was mute, but it gave us a wonderfully long look.

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winter birds

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Pied-billed grebe

Cabin fever?

SPECIAL NOTE: Saturday, January 22, at 9 a.m.

I'll be teaching a class on the Winter Birds of Ijams—all the species that can only be found at the nature center at this time of the year.

The list includes such species as the hermit thrush, winter wren, pied-billed grebe, American coot, yellow-bellied sapsucker, white-throated sparrow, pine siskin, purple finch and those hyper, hard to ID, kinglets.

After our indoor review, we'll go outside for a walk to see what we can find. Bring binoculars if you have them, or if not, we have loaner pairs. FEE: Free for Ijams members, $10 for non-members. To sign up call Sheila at (865) 577-4717, ext. 10.

White-throated sparrow

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out of the cradle

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One of the highlights of winter are the visiting loners, the hermit thrushes.

In the north, where they nest, they're known for their melodious songs. Here they are generally mute, having nothing to really sing about; there's no pressure to claim territory or attract mates. The only pressure is to find food, conserve energy and survive. There's nothing to sing about there; there's no poetry.

Walt Whitman uses the hermit thrush as a symbol of the American voice: wild, free and poetic in his poem "Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking."

" From the memories of the bird that chanted to me"

Walking at Ijams the other day, I encountered one of the hermits in the trees near the main parking lot. Although they tend to be loners, they're rather salient, often remaining perched on a limb for awhile, giving you a good long look. And even though it was silent, it chanted me nonetheless.

-Photo taken at Ijams Nature Center

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hermit times 3

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"Widely hailed as the most gifted songster in all of North America, the hermit thrush is the inspiration of countless poets—and words like serene and ethereal only begin to convey the magic of his song," writes Donald Kroodsma.

We had an enjoyable workshop at the nature center this morning about winter birds: the species that spend their winters in the Tennessee Valley.

On a walk after wards, the most memorable thing we found were three hermit thrushes together. Unfortunately, they weren't singing. The small thrushes only spend their winters here. They are not looking for mates or defining territory. There's no need to sing. That's our lose.

We did notice that there was some sort of scuffle; a confrontation over something unknown. Perhaps it was a trio of hormonal teenagers, full of spit and vinegar (not official terminology, birds contain 0 percent vinegar).

You generally see only one hermit thrush, hence the name—hermit, i.e. loner. Three together was unusual, thrilling.

Special thanks to all that attending the class.

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on their way

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Sue Wagoner sent me this photo from Illinois. The hermit thrush was passing through headed south for the winter.

One place they overwinter is here in the Tennessee Valley and at Ijams Nature Center, although I have yet to spot one along one of our trails. As the name suggests, they are loners but are NOT shy and will often give you a good look.

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