Field Sparrow on a Foggy Morning
A small gray head striped with soft, reddish-brown was all I could see at first, the top part of a small brown sparrow scratching around in a matted pile of wet leaves in the corner of a yard, with three Dark-eyed Juncos. As the rest of the little bird came into view, I saw what I had suspected, and was pleasantly surprised to find – a Field Sparrow.
As their name suggests, Field Sparrows used to be so common in the pastures and old farm fields around here that I paid them little attention. Now they’ve become much less common here because suburban development has replaced much of the brushy, second-growth habitat they prefer. Although still considered common, their populations are declining throughout most of their range in the eastern U.S.
A Field Sparrow is a study in muted colors. Often described as dull and drab, it can easily blend in with the scrubby, grassy kind of habitat it prefers. But a closer look shows subtle coloring in earth tones with the look of soft-brushed suede. The dove-gray head and face are marked with stripes of warm sienna. The back and wings are darker brown and streaked, with reddish tones, the breast is a plain, pale gray or buff. A thin white ring around the eye gives it an alert look. Its small pink bill and pink legs are distinctive, and among the easiest ways to identify it. The tail is rather long.
Altogether its appearance is quiet and gentle, though I don’t know if its behavior reflects this look. Its song is simply lovely – a clear, light whistled series of notes that start out long and slow, teew – teew – teew, and build into a rapid crescendo of silvery bouncing notes, like a ping-pong ball. It’s a sunny, airy song that dances up over an old field or pasture in the summer like a butterfly.
This one was quiet, of course, in the winter, moving with quick, delicate focus, flicking small pieces of leaves and debris aside with its bill, searching for food.