A change of plan. I was going to put this post out next weekend. Not many years ago, you wouldn’t expect to hear the first chiffchaff song in the south of England until mid-March.
But over the last three days I’ve heard at least 11 chiffchaffs, in six different places. They’re here, ever earlier, and (like the rest of us) activated by the sunshine. So, here’s the post.
For many of us, that first moment in the year that we hear this song makes for a memorable day.
Perhaps those two notes aren’t a thriller on their own. But they signify something dear to our hearts, because chiffchaffs are among the very first summer birds to migrate back to Britain.
Like cuckoo and curlew, this is a bird whose name in English is a direct description of the song - ‘chiff-chaff, chiff-chaff’.
It’s not far away from the ‘squeaky bicycle pump’ of the great tit, but the rhythm is less mechanical, sometimes a little wonky.
From time to time chiffchaffs like to double or triple one of the notes, or reverse the order.
They also have an odd little churr, lower and quieter than the ‘chiff-chaff’ notes, which they make in the gaps between. Like they’re keeping their engine turning over.
Chiffchaffs winter closer to Britain than many species of warbler, meaning their migration is relatively short - up from North Africa or the Mediterranean. This enables them to arrive ahead of the pack.
This relatively short migration is reflected not only in their early arrival, but in their very feathers.
Famously, chiffchaffs look extremely similar to one of our other most common summer visitors, the willow warbler. Willow warblers spend their winters much further south, in sub-Saharan Africa, and tend not to return here until early April.
Telling a willow warbler from a chiffchaff by song is easy enough - the willow warbler uses so many notes in its descending stream that you can’t help but feel it’s rubbing the chiffchaff’s nose in it.
Telling a willow warbler from a chiffchaff on looks alone is trickier. One indication, though, is that the chiffchaff’s wings are shorter - they just don’t need to travel so far on them.
Less and less far, perhaps. The chiffchaff’s status as the first summer-visiting songbird has been muddied in recent years, because a thousand or so spend the winter with us.
It’s thought that most of these birds breed further north in the summer, within Britain or in Scandinavia, and have found that they don’t need to migrate all the way to southern Europe to survive the colder months.
These wintering individuals typically hang out in the more glamorous locations, such as sewage works and flooded gravel pits, where there are reliable supplies of small insects. They are also seen from time to time in gardens and the wider countryside.
And on a warm spring day these wintering birds may be tempted to sing. So it’s not easy to be sure that you’re listening to a genuine summer arrival if you hear one at the end of February or early March.
However, most of those birds we hear in the second and third week of March are likely to be fresh arrivals, and they do arrive all of a sudden. It may be that there are no chiffchaffs singing and then the following week there are two, three, four in a small area.
And of course they’re most welcome at this time of year. It’s not always feeling as springlike as it has in England this past week. The chiffchaff reassures us that winter is releasing its hold.
There are estimated to be 1.8 million Common Chiffchaff territores in the UK each summer. They have a wide range across Europe, Africa and Asia, and there are several subspecies. For more on their ecology in the UK, visit the BTO website.
🦜 Read of the Week:
What Does a Parrot Know About PTSD? (New York Times)
‘‘You can look in their eyes,’’ Love said, returning with Bobbi, ‘‘any of these parrots’ eyes, and I myself see a soul. I see a light in there. And when they look at you, they see right into your soul. Look around. They’re all watching. They notice everything. It’s intense.’’
An unexpected bond between damaged birds and traumatised veterans could reveal surprising insights into animal intelligence.
(Thanks Tamsin for sharing this).
This is the tenth instalment in 2025’s cycle of Shriek of the Week. You can catch up with Robin, which includes details of the plan for this year, as well as Wren, Song Thrush, Blackbird, Great Tit, Dunnock, Chaffinch, Goldcrest and Nuthatch.
For those who can, subscribing to the paid tier to Shriek of the Week supports me to write more and keep this all going.
It also gets you access to the full A-Z archive of Shriek of the Week AND our livestream-hopping Early Bird Club call - the next is 8am BST (GMT +1) on Saturday 5th April.
Media credits:
Thanks to the British Library and Lawrence Shove for the audio
Chiffchaff image by Kathy Büscher from Pixabay
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