As late Autumn seamlessly melds with early Winter here in our Sky Islands, we find ourselves devoid of many of our characteristic warm-weather bird species. Gone are the vast majority of the gaudy neotropical migrants that lent color and flare to our all-too-brief monsoon season. Summer Tanagers no longer sing here, living up to their moniker. Varied Bunting have, invariably, flown south. Yellow-billed Cuckoos may have fled as early as August and early September. It’s enough to give a hard-core birder the blues!
Lo and behold, however, we suddenly are assaulted with an influx of secretive sparrows. True, many of our sparrows do breed here – Botterii’s, Cassin’s, Rufous-crowned, and Blackthroated, to name a few. Many others migrate from further north, adding numbers to our otherwise depleted avifauna. Chipping Sparrows, many quite tame, roam in flocks amidst our mesquite bosque, searching for seeds, water, and perhaps the occasional insect meal. White-crowned Sparrows, including the more striking adults as well as the duller juveniles, often join them while whistling out their distinctive song.
Unless you are a hardcore birder, sparrows may well fall within the infamous realm of “Little Brown Jobs” (LBJs). In other words, a sparrow, is a sparrow, is a sparrow. Once you get to know the various species, however, you may well notice not only differences in plumage, calls, and song, but also behavior. Well, there’s always a catch, and here it is: we harbor more species of sparrows in the Madrean Archipelago (a geographic name for this region) than any place on earth!
To be semi-exact there are about 25-27 species in our neck of the woods. All of North America north of Mexico contains only 34 species! The birder’s maxim is that more species is always good. Only problem is that to the uninitiated, semi-initiated, and….yes, even seasoned birder, the damned things often look remarkably alike across species!
Looking at some of the most vexing birding challenges in North America, one may well ponder frustrating flycatchers, infuriating immature gulls, “what-the-hell-was-that warblers, and surely-you’re-kidding-me shorebirds. Each group poses great challenges and skulking sparrows surely belong in this list. Still, I encourage you to begin studying sparrows now, as sorting them out to species can hold many rewards.
Search in areas likely to have the greatest variety of sparrow species. Often where woods or forest meet field — a so-called “ecotone”—is a good start. Walking slowly amidst winter’s withered and downright noisy plants can be a challenge in and of itself, so proceed slowly. Stop often to decrease the ripples of disturbance that we humans often cause where wildlife is concerned. Having duly stalked your feathered quarry, good set of binoculars in hand, look for movement on the ground, in shrubs, and low in trees. When disturbed, most sparrows prefer to keep close to terra firma rather than to ascend to the heights of the canopy.
If you still don’t see any, try “pssshhping” – the fine art of making a complete auditory ass of yourself in the wild. This sound often prompts sparrows to pop up into nearby vegetation to see just how crazy you are! Use this trick sparrowingly (pun intended) as this obviously disturbs the birds a bit. There! You finally see a few! After 17 minutes of gawking through your binoculars and another 12 consulting your field guide, you’ve narrowed it down to any one of the 25-27 or so species of sparrow that could be found here. In other words – an LBJ! Better luck (and skill) next time!
Vincent Pinto and his wife, Claudia, run Raven’s Way Wild Journeys.