Redwing
Icy whisperer, night seeper
This is a subtle noise, but one that can help us realise that those otherwise unidentifiable little brown birds - the ones that keep disappearing into the next field along our winter’s walk - are, in fact, redwings.
It’s a high, thin, but piercing 'tseeer' or ‘seep’. To my ear it's like a tiny bit of air escaping a pressurised bottle.
(In this recording the redwing calls are in the foreground - you can also hear the ‘Geiger counter’ ticking of a robin, some wren song and a single caw from a carrion crow)
I suspect that few people match this sound to a redwing (or perhaps to a bird at all) but it must be subconsciously familiar to almost all of us in the UK, as a background feature of chilly autumn nights.
Redwings call persistently on migration as they pass low overhead, after dark. This can be especially loud around Halloween and Bonfire Night, when they are often clearly audible, even on urban streets.
Hundreds of thousands stream across to the UK to escape the harsh winter conditions of their northern and eastern European breeding grounds. A handful nest here too, but the vast majority are with us only between October and April.
During those winter months redwings can be found in open country, almost anywhere in Britain and Ireland. Here like any self-respecting thrush they spend their daylight hours relieving the hedges of berries and the fields of invertebrates.
And at these times too they make that icy ‘tseeer’ contact call, while perched in trees or hedgerows, and especially as they move between them, usually as part of a loose flock.
Telling a redwing by sight can be tricky at a distance, as they are a similar shape, size and colour to a song thrush. But a close enough view will reveal the stripe over the eye and the dirty orange patch on its flanks, just under the fold of the wing.
The closest encounters tend to be in very cold weather, when redwings are more likely to venture into gardens and town parks to feed. At these times you can kiss any lingering holly berries goodbye.
On warm days later in the winter, some of our wintering redwings are tempted to sing. The song is made up of a few strong flutey notes that quickly devolve into a messy warble.
Delivered in typical thrush fashion, from high in a tree, it offers a taste of Scandinavian, Russian or perhaps Estonian summers in the forest.
Shriek of the Week is back for 2022, every Friday from January to June.
We will cover many of the same songbirds as last year, plus new sounds as we go through the season.
If you know someone who might enjoy a dose of birdsong in their inbox, please pass this along (new subscribers can sign up at the bottom of the page here).
And if you want to make 2022 the year you really tune in to birdsong…
The British Birdsong Essentials course begins again in February, featuring:
step-by-step audio lessons to identifying 25+ species by sound (and ongoing access to 60+ species after the course)
early morning group learning and practice sessions on Zoom
expert ID support throughout and ongoing community via WhatsApp
2021’s participants gave it a 9.75/10 recommendation!
The first ten places are now open - see the course page on the Birdsong Academy website for more details.
Happy New Year!
Media credits:
Redwing contact call sound recording by Mark Gurney, reproduced by kind permission.
Redwing song recorded by Fintan O’Brien - thanks to Fintan for helping me out with many recordings in 2021! - check out his work on Soundcloud
Photo by Marko Hankkila on Unsplash