BIRDwatch

CAROLINA CHICKADEE

By Cecily Nabors

Tiny, cute, and energetic, our Carolina Chickadee (Poecile carolinensis), is a favorite garden visitor. Although this bird clearly has a black cap, it’s not a Blackcapped Chickadee. The two species are hard to tell apart if they’re silent, but the Carolina is a little smaller and a little grayer, and its year-round range is more southern and lower-altitude than the Black-capped. The Carolina Chickadee is the bird we see in our area. We certainly hear them, too: Chickadee-dee-dee! This bird is a “name-sayer.” Its call, often followed by a chuckle, is probably the easiest bird call to learn. Voice is also a defining difference between the species. No Southern drawl here: Our Carolina Chickadee’s call is faster and higher-pitched than that of the Black-capped, and the song, which may start in mid-January, usually comprises four clear-whistled notes (fee-bee fee-bay), in contrast to the two-noted song of the Black-capped. Carolina Chickadees commonly gather in small flocks in fall and winter, roaming the woodlands and suburban landscapes, often foraging in company with titmice and nuthatches. On cold days, they may shiver to raise their metabolism and body temperature. On cold nights, chickadees roost in natural shelters. Experiments show they can lower their metabolism so they lose less heat. In the early morning, they may find a sheltered place to “sunbathe,” welcoming the sun’s warmth with open wings. Chickadees may be small, but they have huge personalities. Their audacity in the face of danger is marked. Dancing around a perched and semi-concealed hawk, chickadees sound the alarm. They dash toward the predator, their calls louder and faster than ever, inciting other birds to join the fray. In most cases, the discomfited hawk will fly off to seek quieter surroundings.

Being non-migratory, chickadees may stay paired for several years. Males and females cooperate to build their nests. They can drill out their own cavities, but often use woodpecker holes or nest boxes; mosses and a lining of hair or plant fibers make the nest cozy. The female sleeps in the nest while her mate sleeps nearby. She may lay as many as eight eggs. The pair raises one brood a year. Incubation is usually about two weeks long, with another two weeks before the youngsters fledge. Both parents feed the young. In spring and summer, insects form the bulk of their diet. Chickadees are accomplished tree-gleaners, probing into crevices and under bark. The birds are so light (.4 oz.) that they often hang upside down on a twig or leaf to pick off a tasty tidbit. Caterpillars, beetles, aphids, and spiders are on the shopping list. If the prey is a large caterpillar or moth, the little bird may bang it against a branch to subdue it taking it back to the nest. As winter approaches and insects become harder to find, the diet of Carolina Chickadees (and many other species) changes to be mostly vegetative, mainly seeds from weeds and trees, spiced by assorted berries. Local goodies include seeds of tulip trees, hemlocks, and pines, as well as elderberries and the fruits of dogwood and serviceberry trees. Birdfeeders can be a big help in snowy winters. Chickadees come to feeders that hold suet, peanuts, or black oil sunflower seeds. Larger birds may block access, but chickadees have a winning strategy for sunflower seeds. They fly in, snatch a seed, and fly off with it, to hold it against a tree branch and hammer it open with their beaks. Although the Carolina Chickadee is classified as a species of least concern, Breeding Bird Survey counts taken during nesting season show a slight downtrend in population. My backyard observations, from 28 years (so far) of participation in Project FeederWatch (PFW), documenting birds from November to April, show a small decrease in both frequency and numbers, which agrees with the overall PFW down-trend for chickadees in the U.S Southeast. Despite the slight reduction in numbers, with luck and a little help, Carolina Chickadees will stay with us, bringing cheer in winter and song in spring. Could anything be finer? o

Cecily Nabors is a retired software manager who has been watching and counting birds for much of her life. She publishes the GoodNatured Observations blog at cecilynabors.com.