Dance of the Grasshopper Sparrow

Meet the Grasshopper Sparrow.  Five inches long, half an ounce in weight, and washed in subtle yet striking shades of buff, fawn, chocolate and gold, the Grasshopper Sparrow is tailor-made to disappear into its grassy home.  

A bird of dry grasslands, the Grasshopper Sparrow (Ammodramus savannarum) is an uncommon breeding bird across what is left of California's prairies.  Its song, for which it is named, is a high-pitched insect-like buzz that is easily overlooked in a land of swaying grasses and blowing winds.  

But it was only due to this bird's humble song that I was able to find it at all!



Driving slowly while birding across private rangeland, following a creek deep into the grasslands, birds sang and called all around: Western Meadowlarks in the tall grasses; Red-winged Blackbirds in the cattails along the creek; California Quail in a thicket of brambles; a Red-tailed Hawk soaring above; a Bullock's Oriole in a distant cottonwood.  

As the sun crept higher, warming the air, the delicious fragrance of drying grasses filled the air with the smell of summer in California's grasslands, the dry smell of heat and sunshine and wind across golden hills.  

It was as I was soaking all this in, reveling in the sounds and smells of a grassland on the cusp of summer (rather early this year due to a lack of rain), that I heard it: one quiet, buzzy song rising above the rest.  

Windows down to invite the breeze, the soft but unmistakable song drifted across the waving grasses, alerting me to the presence of a bird that I so dearly wanted to see.

I stopped the car and sat very still, waiting, listening.  And there it was again.  


Very definitely not the sit-sit-sit-its breeeeeezy of the far more common Savannah Sparrow.  

Listen.  There it was again.  Cut the engine.  Grab the binoculars.  Grab the camera.  Keys in pocket.  Move slowly.  Stop.  Listen.




The repetition of the song every minute or so was enough to propel me forward, drawing me away from the road, into tall grass, deeper into the grassland.  Again and again the bird sang its dry, buzzy song.  And again and again I followed, one or two steps at a time, moving slowly, always scanning the grasses, checking every weed stalk where I knew it would be perched, looking, listening, willing the bird to show itself.

We danced together for quite some time: 

Step, step, pause.  Listen.  

Kip-kip-kip zeeeee.  

Step, step, pause.  Listen.  

Kip-kip zeeeee.  

A little to the left and farther up the hill.  

Kip-kip-kip zeeeee.




When I first spotted it, a little mite of a bird, it was nothing more than a dark spot halfway hidden in a clump of rapidly-drying fiddleneck.  Even in silhouette against the morning sun, the Grasshopper Sparrow is unique among California's sparrows, with its flat forehead sloping into a large bill to give it a big-headed appearance.  But the bird continued singing his distinctive song, enticing me closer.

Kip-kip zeeeee.

Step, step.  Swing around to the left.  Get the sun behind me.

The next thing I knew, twenty minutes had passed and I had climbed high up the side of a grassy hill. 

But, at last, I was rewarded with excellent looks at a beautiful little bird!



Birders will well understand the next sequence of events: 

Heartbreak when the bird flew away

Hope when it landed in a shrub a hundred yards away.

Elation when it flew back to perch on a dry weed stalk just ten or fifteen yards away - and in perfect light at that!  

Needless to say, I was delighted!  For the next fifteen minutes I watched this charming little guy as he sang his wee little heart out from his humble vantage point on a dry weed stalk.  And I may have discovered my new favorite sparrow!



Unfortunately, the Grasshopper Sparrow is in trouble.  The National Audubon Society considers it a "priority bird," and in California it is listed as a Species of Special Concern by the Department of Fish and Wildlife.  Loss of grassland habitat has contributed to the decline of the Grasshopper Sparrow throughout its range in general, and on the floor of the Central Valley in particular, where very little grassland habitat remains.  In our area, they still breed along the edges of the Valley in the foothills, as well as in a few protected areas on the Valley floor, though they are rare here.  

The beautiful little Grasshopper Sparrow is just one of many reasons why it is so vital to protect California's remaining grasslands, especially large, contiguous grasslands with at least some native grasses still present.   

Check out this article from Audubon to find out how land owners can help (and are helping!) to preserve, create and manage habitat for Grasshopper Sparrows and other grassland species.  



Because after all, no grassland symphony would be quite complete without the song of the Grasshopper Sparrow!  

Kip-kip-kip zeeeee!

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