I've said it before, Mute Swans are not really mute, they have a repertoire of calls and sounds. They also use movements of their head and neck to communicate. There is a quick head bowing movement, and a courting movement in which the feathers at the top half of the neck are ruffled, while those at the bottom are not, while the swan bows his head alternatively to left and right; and the aggressive 'busking stance' of the territorial male. In this post I focus on sound communication. I have trawled through Xenocanto, an encyclopaedic website with thousands of bird calls, to compile the following selection of Mute Swan sounds. I was prompted to write the post after listening to an odd distant call, which I didn't recognise to start with, and I was surprised to find out that it was a mute swan's. I heard the call again today, young swans calling to a swan flying overhead. It is not straightforward to distill the 'meaning' of a call, but the context can helps.
1. Snort
A short grunt or snort, often uttered when the swans are relaxed, and appears as a contact call while feeding, between members of a family, but also a greeting call. A lone young swan snorted when I walked by a lake near him.
2. Begging call
A soft repeated whistle typical call of young. Mute Swans don't 'feed' their young by putting food in their bills, but they help the young to obtain their food by paddling with their feet to disturb the sediments or by pulling underwater plants. Even fully grown immature swans carry on whistling.
3. Wing-beat Sound
This loud sound produced by the mute swan's wing-beats is really eery, especially when it takes you unawares until you realise that is coming from a swan. It carries very well and appears to replace the trumpeting contact calls of other swans.
4. Hissing
An aggressive sound, usually uttered by the female she has small young and a danger (human, dog) approaches. The bill is open and the swan adopts an upright stance towards the danger source.
5. Contact all
A two-note contact call reminiscent of other swan's flight call. I heard this call when a pair was separated, maybe during landing (one ended up in the river, the other one in a lake). Also when a Mute Swan flew over a family, the juveniles used this distance call.
From my office I hear several Herring Gulls start calling plaintively, kyeoh! kyeoh! a loud, far carrying call that I associate to buzzards overhead. I looked through the window. The local Carrion Crows had assembled atop a large poplar, watching nervously, calling and displaying wing shuffling and tail fanning.
A dozen gulls soared and called - all the local Herring gulls - slowly assembling and ascending on the thermals. Then I see a Buzzard, soaring higher. The gulls didn't reach the buzzard's height and it eventually drifted away and the gull calls died off.
Gulls often alert me to raptors. A couple of years back it was a Honey Buzzard, migrating over town. I pay a lot of attention to the gulls alarm call since then!
Later, at home, the scene appears to repeat itself. Alarm calling gulls. I grab the camera and go out into the garden. Two Lesser Black-backed gulls are mobbing a Buzzard.
This gull alarm call is persistent and sounds distressed, it is hard to ignore. It seems to attract other gulls too, who soar and chase the potential predator. I wonder if it is how young gulls learn to identify the predators they are likely to come across in their lives. Crowd knowledge of the enemies, initiated by older gulls with previous experience, who in turn learned it in their youth. Immature offspring of the gulls initiating the mobbing are likely to be around. The adults could be 'teaching' young about potential predators and the young are likely to benefit from this at some point in the future. This is a hypothesis called 'cultural transmission of mobbing' which was explored in some experiments by E. Curio and collaborators in 1978. They showed that exposure of a novel object to a 'naive' Blackbird at the same time a 'teacher' blackbird is mobbing results in learning to mob the new object (in one of their experiments a colourful bottle). This teaching could be passed through six rounds of learning in which the learner becomes the teacher of a new bird, and so on. The fact that enemies often have to be recognised culturally was put to a sad test when captive reared endangered Hawaii crows (or Alalā) were released into their natural habitat. The last wild Alalā had died in 2002. Two of six newly released birds were predated by native hawks, to which the captive reared birds were completely naive in the first week after release. The conservationist recaptured the surviving birds and started an intensive 'predator training' program in which the captive crows were exposed to hawks calls, hawks flying overhead and simulated hawk attacks. Hopefully the savvy crows will do better when they are released next.
This time of the year there seem to be a passage of migrating or dispersing Buzzards over the city. The gulls are breeding, probably incubating now, and a buzzard could be a predator likely not for them, but for eggs left unattended or young chicks. It makes sense that the gulls see off the potential predator.
I got this short clip from the garden:
Corvid researchers have ample anecdotal evidence that crows recognise individual humans: crows are unusually alert and often direct mobbing calls to researchers that have previously ringed them, while ignoring other researchers. Other crows follow and harass individuals who feed them in order to obtain food, something that Ralph Hancock has described to me in comments to this blog (see previous post), and amply illustrated in his blog (Charley and Melissa are the pair of crows that often pester him for food). Unlike predators, who tend to be dangerous in general, people can be either very dangerous, mildly dangerous, neutral or good to crows. Some people, e.g. farmers who treat them as pests persecute and kill crows (see photo below) and crows might learn to be cautious when they see them and fly away before being shot. Other people are plain annoying, as bird ringers who trap them, and it may pay to learn who they are so that the trap is avoided next time. Yet others people are good to crows, such as people who feed them, and it may pay to be confiding and even harass them to get more food. It is not surprising that intelligent birds like crows pay attention and learn to discriminate between 'good' 'neutral' and 'bad' people and act accordingly.
Two Carrion Crow carcasses on the cows feeder of a local farm.
John Marzluff, a researcher at the University of Washington has studied crows for many years, and part of his research has involved trapping and ringing crows in Seattle. Marzluff was aware of the crow's mobbing behaviour towards the specific researchers that had trapped and ringed them but he wanted formal proof. He incorporated ringing into an experiment to test if crows recognise individual humans. He worked with American crows, Corvus brachyrhynchos, a close relative of the Carrion Crow with a similar social organisation. The research included urban populations that included previously trapped and ringed individuals, and also 'naive' populations that had not been ringed before. Experiments included a single negative event: the setting a trap (a net launcher) to capture feeding crows in 5 different sites. The people activating the trap, capturing and ringing the birds wore specific masks and/or hats (a 'dangerous' mask). Masks were used so that they were interchangeable and effects due to inadvertent researcher behaviour, outfit or body size could be removed. During transects around the crow territories, researchers (wearing either the dangerous mask or a 'neutral' mask) assessed crow activity towards them before and after the trapping event. They in particular noted if crows displayed the 'scolding' response to them (defined as a harsh, alarm ‘kaw’ directed repeatedly at the observer, and accompanied by agitated wing and tail flicking) or were indifferent. The experiments were repeated by people unaware of the experimental design or objectives, which were asked to walk around the crows territories wearing or not the mask used during the trapping event or a different, neutral masks. This experiment removed any subjective bias by the experimenters themselves.
The experiments show that crows rapidly learn to recognise the 'dangerous mask' used during the trapping in their local site, with more scolding in response to the dangerous mask than to neutral mask during and after the trapping event, but no differences before the trapping event. In addition, the percentage of local crows scolding the person wearing the dangerous mask increases from 26% steadily with time over 2.7 years to 66%, suggesting that the local crows learn from each other about the dangerous person. The masks used in one of the experiments were of ordinary people and the crows learned to mob the specific mask associated to the trapping and not similar masks.
The crows today calling and wing-flicking.
Today I walked around the park today with my camera. Three crows at the end of the park, in the same area where they mobbed and followed me three weeks ago immediately flew to the top of a tree and cawed harshly looking in my direction, wing-flicking, then one of them flew towards the tree by which I was standing. I took a video that shows how it is scolding me and records the call. The top shot is a screen gan of the video. As I left the park they stopped cawing. I seem to have become the not so good people to the local crows, maybe I will wear a mask next time.
In my way to work as I crossed the park I saw a pair of crows with a fledgling. The young one hopped to one adult and was fed. I took my camera out and started taking photos, but all feeding and begging stopped. The young one started looking around for tidbits on the grass. One of the adults, after eyeing me (the one in the background above), flew to the top of the tree under which I was standing, and cawed loudly and repeatedly. The other adult followed. I didn't think much about this until I carried on with my walk and the crows flew from tree to tree above me, calling all the way, sounding pretty angry. It took that for me to realise that I was being mobbed! I thought about the episode by Konrad Lorenz when his tame jackdaws apparently mistook his wet swimming trucks, which he was holding, by a dead jackdaw and actually attacked his hand, drawing blood. I saw my black camera with dangling cap and immediately put it away. I do hope the crows don't remember me tomorrow!
Curiously, but not surprisingly, this call is completely different to the mobbing call uttered when chasing sparrowhawks or gulls away (the call that gave name to this blog), which is a dry rattling. Instead is a long, harsh caw. I found a video of a crow attacking a fox and using the same call.
The adult, on the right, eyeing me.
The young crow stops feeding, as the adults caw above me.
The young crow is taking everything in, looking at the parents reaction.
Returning home in the light evening today I noticed Blackbirds 'chinking'. This is a very persistent call, often by several individuals, that I usually associate to summer evenings. The blackbirds, up to four of them, were in the tree where the Tawny Owl nest box is. The owls are indeed in occupation, although they were nowhere to be seen from the ground. They have been calling at dusk, and every few days I have been able to watch one of them as it called, sat on the box for a few minutes and then left to go hunting. Often, later at night, one calls with a lovely gurgling sound from inside the nest. Two of the blackbirds got close to the entrance, calling non stop, if there was an owl in the nest, they might be able to see it. At some point they calmed and left, but then one returned, started calling and the others joined him in the tree.
I wondered that the 'chinking' is not a roosting call, but a mobbing call to an owl, which is more likely to be encountered active as nights become lighter in the summertime. In a couple of weeks, the leaves would obscure the view and although a blackbird calling is evident, a quiet owl sitting inside a tree is not. This is a lovely clip of blackbirds mobbing a Tawny Owl demonstrating the call and also how fearless they are towards the owl.
UPDATE 7 April 2017. From the living room at 20:05, I heard a Blackbird suddenly starting to 'chink' and I looked at the nest box. The round silhouette of a Tawny was sitting atop the nest. It was light enough to get a low resolution photo.
I've been wanting to take a photo of a Blackbird in this posture for a long time. Blackbirds do often cock their tails. When they alight they do that tail-cocking so as to keep their balance - in a similar way to Woodpigeons - they often do a jerky tail-cocking action when they do one of their various alarm calls 'chok, chok, chok' at the same time than they flap their wings. On Sunday, a windy day, this Blackbird perched on the side of a drinking trough, the wind made it lose its balance a bit and it stayed, tail cocked, for that second longer for me to press the shutter. Got you!
Winter is tough for small birds. The bare trees and the need to spend more time finding food to compensate for higher energy demands in cold weather means that they might be more exposed to a range of predators. They often join other birds in mixed flocks which might afford them more protection, as more eyes keep an eye for Sparrowhawks or cats. Birds have another card up their wings: alarm calls. Alarm calls can be very diverse and research has shown that they can be specific to each predator: responding appropriately is crucial, therefore alarm calls have meaning: flying away might be good if a cat is about, but staying still or hiding in a bush might be a better response to an aerial predator. Tits are highly vocal and have a broad repertoire of calls, which they repeat in different combinations. Some calls are used to beckon other tits when food is found, others to mob predators, yet others as contact calls. They are also very responsive and inquisitive and will approach to you if you imitate them.
A research team from Japan, Germany and Sweden, led by Toshitaka Suzuki, has been investigating communication in Japanese Great Tits, Parus minor, a close relative of the European species that used to be considered a subspecies (the photo above is of the European Great Tit). Using playback experiments of natural and artificially manipulated calls they show that Great Tits responded very differently to different calls. One call, which they named D call (also called the 'jar' call), is used by birds that are alone, and their partner is more likely to join them after hearing the call, a 'come and join me' call. When researchers played this call on a loudspeaker, great tits approached the loudspeaker. Another call, ABC calls, also called 'chicka calls' are used in an anti-predator context, and playback calls elicit scanning behaviour like the tits are looking for potential danger, 'watch out'. Often tits combine different calls are combined in different sequences, as we combine words in a sentence, for example they add their D call to the ABC call, e.g. ABC-D: upon hearing this, the birds watch left and right as it searching for a predator in their surroundings, but they also approach the loudspeaker, so that both calls combine the separate meanings into a 'sentence', which is used in a mobbing context.
This video shows the sounds separate and in combination, and illustrate how similar the Japanese Great tit calls are to European great tits.
The researchers wondered if the order of the call matters, that is, there is syntax in the vocalisations. If order is important, then the birds should respond to the ABC-D but not to an artificially generated D-ABC call. They played both calls to 34 wild Japanese Great Tits individually in the winter and counted the number of scans and if the birds approached the loudspeakers. These were their results:
Responses of Japanese great tits to playbacks of ABC–D and D–ABC calls (a) Number of horizontal scans made by tits in 90 s (b) Percentage of trials in which tits approached within 2 m of the loudspeaker. From Suzuki et al 2016. This Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.
The birds scanned and approached the loudspeaker much more when the natural ABC-D call was used, strongly suggesting that the meaning of the vocalisation is lost when the natural order is altered, and that, indeed, birds use grammar. The combination of calls in the context of grammar enriches the possibilities of meaning of a limited number of calls, making bird language much more fascinating and complex that we could have anticipated.
More information
Toshitaka, S. N., Wheatcroft, D. & Griesser, M. Experimental evidence for compositional syntax in bird calls. Nature Communications (2016). doi:10.1038/ncomms10986
There are three ways I spot Sparrowhawks. First, during their spring soaring flights, high over their territory, when they are very apparent then, though a bit distant. The second is when Carrion Crows alert me to their presence, when they are mobbing them, chasing them mercilessly while uttering the call that gives the name to this blog: a call that I directly translate in my mind as 'sparrowhawk!'. The third one I have got to call 'the Sparrowhawk silence'. It is an eerie silence just after the synchronic clap of many pairs of wings - Feral pigeons, Gulls - that replaces alarm calls in these birds, and the alarmed calls of Blue Tits or Blackbirds: no gull squabbles, no cooing, no chitchat. If I look up during the 'silence', I am bound to see the brown silent shadow of the hawk, flying low across the trees in the park. I have witnessed this a couple of times this week. Today, when the silence happened I was photographing a Mistle Thrush. It was feeding on a small, but exposed grassy area, but it didn't fly off. It just froze, for maybe two eternal minutes, tense, its tail pressed against the ground, just watching. Afterwards, it relaxed and carried on hunting worms as normal.
For a long time, I have been fascinated with the rich vocal repertoire of Blackbirds. I have recorded their alarm calls and what do they appear to react to, and did some research to find out what was known about them. Here I have compiled what I have found so far in my attempt to understand 'blackbirdese'. I have excluded male song and chick and fledgling begging calls from the post. Given how difficult is to transcribe bird sounds, I have illustrated each call with embedded sonograms and clips from the website Xeno-canto, which contains a fantastic collection of bird calls from around the world, published under Creative Commons licences.
Chink, chink, chink, chink, chink!'
A mobbing call given to owls, kestrel, magpie, carrion crow (and ornithologists checking nests!) which may be followed by attacks. The blackbird is exposed, agitated, flicks tail and wings - which are kept dangling -, from an obvious post (top shot and above) facing the potential predator, very nervous sounding and calling repeatedly and monotonously for a long time. It indicates a moderately aggressive tendency with a low escape tendency, although somewhat inhibited from attacking. Mobbing might be a way of cultural transmission of enemy recognition. Inexperience birds exposed to conspecifics mobbing a predator will join in the mobbing and mob the predator themselves in the future.
Alarm call before roosting or 'chinking'
Territory holding males give a persistent 'chink-chink' calls in the evening, possibly to deter other Blackbirds from roosting in its territory. Other territory holders might join in 'chinking'. This is interesting as it is very similar if not identical to the mobbing call. Is this a dishonest signal 'don't roost here, there are predators around'? or it is an assertion of territorial ownership with a general meaning 'move on'?
Seeee!
The bird sits tense, still, with feathers flat on the body and head. In response to crow and sparrowhawk, whether they are flying or just nearby. Slow, well spaced and high-pitched with open beak (above). Many other birds have a similar thin, high pitched alarm call for threats from aerial predators since the features of this sound makes the calling bird harder to locate, therefore the bird calling does not endangering itself. It has also been called 'hawk alarm', but it is also uttered in response to crows flying overhead or when the nest is threatened. Nestlings react to this call by becoming quiet and still. In experiments using magpie dummies, the parents uttered this call when the dummy was 6-7 m from the nest, while they used the mobbing call when the dummy was very close to the nest. Interestingly, there appear to be differences between urban and rural blackbirds use of this call, as D.W. Snow reported that woodland birds use this call also to humans (the one in the photo above is a woodland bird, so maybe was reacting to our presence), and then it indicates that the nest is very close.
Alarm rattle
A loud, sudden and accelerating outburst, ending on a noisy scream, with the bird flying away. Alarm call when the bird is suddenly startled, also during fights. May starts when the bird is perched but finished in flight. If this call has the same effect on a predator as if an observer disturbs a blackbird at close quarters - it has made me jump more than once - it might give the calling bird a few moments advantage to flee from danger.
Sriii
Also called 'trill' call. A flight or fight intention call. Perched and in flight. It can serve as an appeasement call by a subordinate bird indicating its intention to flee.
Soft call
Also known as 'pok' or 'pook' call, sounds like a soft bark, to me more like 'wow'. Usually from a tree, still or in flight. It is an alarm call to indicate the presence of ground predators, which in gardens usually means the presence of a cat, or a human approaching young or the nest. Fledglings respond to this call immediately by keeping silent and still and looking around, and especially below them. D.W. Snow used a playback of this call to a few day old nestlings reared by him and they acted in the same way.
Chooking
Low pitched, uttered with the beak closed. Anxiety call, mild alarm. Sometimes on its own, sometimes accelerating to the full-swing alarm call in flight. Flicks tail, horizontal body. To people, dogs, cats, etc. Females use it when disturbed while looking for nest site or nest building. Also used when the bird is foraging in an unfamiliar situation where the bird feels insecure.
Chook, chook, chink, chink, chink
A variant in which the chook combines with chinking as the bird becomes more aggressive or excited.
More information
Snow, D. W. (1988). A study of blackbirds. British Museum, Natural History.
Kryštofková, M., Haas, M., & Exnerová, A. (2011). Nest defense in blackbirds Turdus merula: effect of predator distance and parental sex. Acta Ornithologica, 46(1), 55-63.
A pair of Wrens in the wildlife garden called their rattling alarm calls. I am always intrigued by alarm calls. Many alarm calls are directed to the bird watcher, as we approach a nest or a bird more than it is comfortable with. In this case, the birds were directing their attention to a cat, which was going about its business in the undergrowth. The pair of wrens moved constantly around, chattering nervously. A Goldfinch sat on a branch paying a lot of attention, but keeping quiet. On the top is my best shot of one of the Wrens, and you can see a little video here.
Young birds are vulnerable. While they are still in the nest they can easily fall prey to cats, snakes or predatory birds, and once they leave it they are still naive and clumsy and they can also be easy prey. Parents, however, can help: they are experienced and know what other animals represent a risk, and they could make a difference by communicating this to their young offspring by using alarm calls. In a recent paper Toshitaka Suzuki showed how Great Tits (above, a fledgling) produce different alarm calls depending of which predator approaches their nest, and how, crucially, nestlings use this information to behave in the most effective way to avoid predation. The main predators for Great Tits in Japan are the Japanese Rat Snake species and the Jungle Crow. Snakes fit into the cavities Great Tits use and can then kill the chicks, while crows can only snatch chicks approaching the nest entrance. Suzuki presented nesting Great Tits with either a stuffed jungle crow (11 nests) or a live snake (10 nests) in a transparent plastic box, and the parents readily responded to the predators with repeated alarm calls.
In response to a crow, they continually gave ‘chicka’ alarm calls that were composed of several different types of syllables, but these calls were rarely produced in the snake trials. Instead, when detecting a snake, parents produced ‘jar’ alarm calls that were composed of harsh syllables. Such ‘jar’ alarm calls were repeatedly given in response to the snake, but were never uttered for the crow.
He recorded the nestlings responses to the parents' alarm call using video cameras set inside the nest. When the nestlings heard the 'chicka' call, they crouched inside the nest, making less likely that a crow would be able to reach them from the entrance hole. In contrast, upon hearing the 'jar' call, all nestlings in the 10 nests tested with the snake jumped hurriedly out of the nest. Snakes can easily enter the nest, so early fledgling is the only chance of escape. The parents took care of the early fledged nestlings as normal for fledglings. Although early fledgling can mean lower chances of survival, it is a better option to an almost certain death when a snake enters the nest.
This study shows that parent offspring communication can be quite nuanced, and hints at how little we still understand important aspects of the behaviour of common bird species.
References Suzuki TN (2011). Parental alarm calls warn nestlings about different predatory threats. Current biology : CB, 21 (1) PMID: 21215927
