Nantucket Birds: The Catbird

The “Black Mockingbird”
By Kenneth Turner Blackshaw

This week’s bird will knock you over with its song, but not by its appearance. Indeed, the Gray Catbird may remind you of that rather dull-appearing friend you have who astounds you with a zany sense of humor or plays practical jokes.

Catbirds are mainly summer birds on Nantucket and I must confess, one I refer to as my favorite bird. I always listen for their arrival in early May, for it is by song that they make known their presence. There may still be a chill in the air, but not too cold to drive with the window open, and as I leave my driveway in Monomoy, I hear four or five individuals announcing their territory where there were none the day before.

It is quite often an early morning discovery because like so many songbirds, these charming gray creatures migrate at night. Scientists think this reduces their risk from predators, thus defusing another hazard during this dangerous struggle of migration. Much research has been done trying to determine if they find their way by the stars, or even by feeling the earth’s magnetic pull.

Now those of you who are ‘bird’ people are saying, ‘Catbirds are here all winter.’ This is true, but they are not our nesting population and as such, are much shyer and more retiring.
Gray Catbirds provide us with yet another example of global warming, this one going back 130 years. In the 1870s, catbirds didn’t nest this far north; William Brewster referred to them on Nantucket as only a fall vagrant. But by the 1920s they were nesting, and had become very common in summer by the time Griscom and Folger wrote ‘The Birds of Nantucket’ in the late 40s.

The trend continues. The first Christmas Bird Counts in the 50s and 60s only found catbirds in about half the years. But as time has passed, more and more have been found until we reached a high of 81 birds for the 2006 census. Some politicians don’t recognize global warming, but our catbirds certainly do.

So what’s the big deal about a catbird anyway? They aren’t large birds, a bit smaller and slimmer than a robin. The colors don’t knock out your eye, being mainly soft gray, with a black cap and tail. In proper light, catbirds have a lavender tinge. The only color is hidden saucily under the tail – rusty undertail coverts.

But it’s their behavior that sets them apart. Birders like to call out birds by making various sounds to attract them. Catbirds are only too obliging. At the first squeak, the bushes around you may explode with catbirds. Suddenly they are here and there, tails pumping, chirping, rattling, or meowing like cats. Oftentimes they inflate their breast feathers in order to intimidate whatever is invading their territory. Some birds skulk when threatened. Catbirds rise to the occasion and give you ‘what for!’

Catbirds belong to the family known as ‘mimic thrushes’, along with the mockingbird and thrashers. Peterson describes their song as ‘a disjointed series of notes and phrases, some musical.’ Bent does them more justice but still understates the case; ‘a good catbird song needs no apology.’ To me it’s almost as if the bird is experimenting with sound, making a wonderful collection of clucks and whistles, often pausing for a second and looking around as if to say, ‘How was that?’ Their ‘black mockingbird’ nickname comes from the similarity between their song and that of the mockingbird. When not singing, there are the marvelous catlike mewing calls, thrumming sounds, and a nerve-jangling rattle like two sticks being clacked together.

Listen to the Catbird

But the best thing about our catbirds is their engaging and confiding nature. They are only too anxious to come out and share their thoughts with us. They also have a penchant for raisins. My friend Vi Allen had one that came to her hand for many summers to pick out just the tastiest one. Average longevity for a catbird is around three years, but bird-banding records show a max of nine. That’s quite a feat for a bird that regularly flies several thousand miles a year from summer to winter homes.

Nantucket’s Gray Catbirds are almost done with their nesting cycle now, so soon their cheery cacophony will be over for another year. The other call notes continue but singing is mainly reserved for proclaiming territory. So if you are out in the tangles, listen for these plain colored jokers. Try making a squeaking or ‘pshhhh’ing sound. You may meet your favorite bird.

George C. West creates illustrations for these articles. Originally published in the Nantucket Independent, July 23, 2004

Check out the ‘Birding Nantucket’ series at: http://k-blackshaw.com/BN/BN.htm