Here’s a suggestion: Take an early morning or late afternoon walk in Tilden Park, along the trail that starts at the Lone Oak picnic area and follows Wildcat Creek. This time of year you’ll be surrounded by birdsong—black-headed grosbeaks, warbling vireo s, Wilson’s warblers—but one voice in particular will stand out. The performance may start with a soft “whit,” likened by some listeners to the drip of water into a bucket. Then the Swainson’s thrush, newly returned from its Mexican and Central American w intering grounds, will get serious. From somewhere in the oaks and bay laurel will come what Alexander Skutch, who has heard these birds warming up in Costa Rica, called “slender liquid spirals of song.” The smooth notes flow in an ascending scale, with a reedy effect as the pitch rises. If you’re lucky, you’ll hear several males with adjacent territories matching voices, the song-duels echoing off the cliffs that rise above the creek.
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