Six members of the Thrush Family are more or less common in the eastern United States: the Robin, the Bluebird, the Wood Thrush, the Hermit Thrush, the Olive-backed Thrush, and the Veery. The Gray-cheeked and Bicknell’s thrushes are not so widely known. The Russet-backed Thrush is the western representative of the Olive-back. The Oven-bird, or Golden-crowned Thrush, and the Water-thrushes are not thrushes at all, but warblers, though they resemble thrushes in having brown backs and light spotted breasts, and in being dwellers of the woods. The Brown Thrasher, sometimes wrongly called the Brown Thrush, also has points of resemblance—a speckled breast and bright brown back—but he is one of the MimidÆ or Mockingbird Family. The breasts of young robins and the backs of baby bluebirds are spotted, showing their family relationship. Both robins and bluebirds have voices that possess a quality for which our thrushes are noted. I have heard the English thrush, famed in poetry. I consider its song inferior in quality of tone to those of our wood and hermit-thrushes, and veery; it strongly resembles that of our thrasher. The true thrushes of our woods have backs of leaf-brown, varying in hue from bright russet to dull olive. Their breasts are white or buff, streaked or spotted; their tails are short; their eyes, large and lustrous. Their movements are quick, yet graceful. Their demeanor is gentle, though I have seen them strongly aroused when nest or young was disturbed. THE WOOD THRUSHThe Wood Thrush is the best known of these thrushes. It may be identified by its large size (a little over 8 inches); by its bright brown head, dull brown back, wings, and tail; white under parts that are heavily spotted, especially on the breast and sides; and by distinct streaks below the eyes.
A pair of thrushes once nested in a tree on a slope just back of a house where I chanced to be a guest. The mother-bird had begun her brooding, when carpenters arrived to build some steps near her chosen home. Frightened, she fled, and remained away for a time. Finally mother-love overcame her fears and she returned. The workmen were asked to do her no harm; they became interested in her, and she trustful of them. She let them approach THE OLIVE-BACKED THRUSHThe Olive-backed Thrush is about an inch smaller than the wood thrush (7 inches), and is uniformly olive-brown above. Its breast, throat, cheeks, and eye-ring are buff; its sides gray. The breast, sides of the throat, and cheeks are spotted with black.
THE GRAY-CHEEKED THRUSH AND BICKNELL’S THRUSHES
THE VEERYThe Veery or Wilson’s Thrush is slightly smaller than the wood thrush (7½ inches), and is a lighter and more uniform brown above. It has a whitish throat and belly, and grayish sides. The breast and sides of the throat are a soft buff, with faint spots of brown. Its light brown upper parts and its less conspicuous markings distinguish the veery from other thrushes.
THE HERMIT THRUSHThe Hermit Thrush may be described in superlatives. Of the four commoner thrushes, it comes earliest (in March or early April) on its way to its haunts in northern woods, remains longest (till October or November), and is considered by many to be the finest singer of a highly gifted family. It is so very shy that it is rarely seen and yet, during migration time, I once discovered a solitary hermit in a tree on a vacant lot only a few blocks from the business center of Cleveland. Because we sit quietly for hours at a time in the Maine woods, we have been vouchsafed many glimpses of its olive-brown back, its reddish-brown tail (the mark of identification), and its rather thickly spotted white and brown breast. We have noticed its habit of raising its tail as it alighted; we have heard its call-note chuck. Moore’s Rock, Castine, Maine, commands an enchanting view of Penobscot Bay, of distant hills, and of spruce woods that are tenanted by veeries, olive-backed, and hermit thrushes. There we make frequent pilgrimages, to hear them sing at sunset. Beneath glowing skies and in the silence, the hermit raises his exquisitely modulated voice in a strain of ethereal beauty; pauses, then in a higher key, repeats it; a third time, with still loftier elevation of tone, he sings,—and sings again. More than once at twilight, a white fog has moved in from the bay and enveloped us as we listened. The voices of these thrushes, proceeding from the sea of mist, have seemed more like those of spirits from another world than of birds—unspeakably uplifting and full of significance. |