The Sounds of the Season
December 3, 2023
Now in late fall, the sounds have changed. Foggy mornings seem to quiet everything, or perhaps it’s an illusion. Fog dances on the water to a rhythm felt rather than heard. No boats out to spoil the stillness.
My footsteps crunch as I walk on fallen leaves. A few trees hang on to their leaves but there’s not much left to block the wind.
The flocks of geese have grown and geese are anything but quiet. I haven’t seen many snow geese yet but I heard a flock of greater white-fronted geese pass overhead. I would have missed them had I not heard their call, with its cadence different than the Canada or snow geese.
(I couldn’t record their sound, but you can hear snow geese in this video from a few years back.)
Ring-billed gulls have replaced Franklin’s gulls and their numbers are growing by the day. They are noisy too but only if you’re fairly close. Their voices don’t seem to echo like the geese.
Once in a while a loon calls, the most magical of the late fall sounds. On this day I suddenly heard that call right behind me as I was photographing small birds in the bushes. I would have missed these three if they hadn’t stopped to say hello.
There are plenty of mallards around and male mallards also make a lot of noise - usually when they are skirmishing with each other. Our little wood duck is still hanging with the pack. I don’t know if I’d know the sound of a wood duck, have I ever heard it?
One of my favorite duck sounds is the whistle of the common goldeneye. (Listen to it in the sound marked “wing sound” on this page.) I wish they wouldn’t fly away so quickly, but maybe as the winter goes on they will tolerate my presence a little longer.
In the trees, most of the songs of spring have been replaced by the squawks of winter. Everyone is flocking to find the seeds, the nuts, and the berries. Large flocks of robins and bluejays ensure the winter is not too quiet.
Sparrow, juncos, bluebirds, house finches, goldfinches, yellow-rumped warblers, titmice, and cedar waxwings fly from tree to tree in small flocks. You know when they arrive and you know when they leave even if you have no idea why they moved on.
One lone bird continues his song, almost as if it is spring. I hear him singing before sunrise most mornings, filling the cove with his sound. The tiniest bird with one of the loudest - and most melodious - voices in the forest. Heard more often than seen - can you find him in the video?
The sounds of this season are soft. The sounds of this season are still. The sounds of this season are loud, boisterous, chaotic, windy, and cold. Every season has its symphony. Every season is different.
What are the sounds of the season where you live?
Thank you friends for being here! Don’t forget to click subscribe if you haven’t already (free or paid) and share with anyone you think might enjoy this post. The annual subscription is on sale now through the end of the year and makes a gift that keeps on giving for yourself or a friend while supporting my ability to keep putting work like this into the world!
Early winter arrived with authority late last week and will be here until early April. I saw another eagle walking along the riverbank, losing some of its majesty while strolling on foot. Two nights ago, when we arrived home after dark, we heard elk galloping out of the field near our house, and last night, one bugled for awhile, calling into the night, lonely perhaps and looking for love.
It's ao interesting, & amazing how migration changes the area in which we live. I so admire how you get out to experience this every day you can, & then share with your followers. Thank you, Cheryl Hanson.