Is It Noise or Not Noise?

 

It’s July 1st, and the 2021-22 COVID academic year is eight weeks behind me. When I returned to the forests, meadows, and wetlands in May, I began my homecoming process by simply going to places I thought might be adequately quiet for listening and recording. That’s not very easy, of course, since there’s noise almost everywhere. Most of it is generated by humans, and some of these sounds are more disturbing to me that others.

So what is noise, what’s not noise, and what falls somewhere in between? It's somewhat subjective, and I hadn’t thought about it more specifically until now. I know noise when I hear it, and it’s almost everywhere.

I'll start in the backyard.

Wendy and I have a little woodland understory backyard in an old, inner-ring suburb of Cleveland. There are large pin oaks that provide abundant shade and acorns, and we expect that there are various caterpillars up in the leaves that are providing live bird food. We’ve planted smaller native trees and shrubs to create the understory and have ferns and an assortment of native plants creating layers of green broken only by wood chip paths and rocks. Birds are numerous, not surprisingly, as well as various cricket species, a couple of katydid species, and an assortment of other insects.

                                           There's a lot of life in this backyard

Sadly, I seldom record here. There is human-generated noise at almost any time of day and night. You know many of these sonic offenders: the roaring lawnmowers, whining weed whackers, and bellicose blowers of various sorts. Night brings unnecessarily loud motorcycles and cars plus necessary sirens for police, fire, and ambulance. Firecrackers – periodically including those that shake windows – startle people and other animals from late spring through at least October. Private and corporate jets destined for the county airport scream so low overhead that I can see the lights and landing wheels. 

There's typically more noise than I can edit out of any recordings I might make. It didn't used to be so obtrusive, but the noise level has increased significantly in the past 25+ years.

Even the closest park area I could call a “local patch” has a chronic problem with extensive processions of obnoxiously dominating motorcycles that obscure all sounds of nature along the road paralleling the river. It's a beautiful location that's full of birds, frogs, and singing insects, but noise from the motorcycles and cut-through traffic and from the air traffic to the Cuyahoga County regional airport make recording frustrating. (The one human-generated noise I forgive is the train whistles in the distance. I did state earlier that it's rather subjective.)

               North Chagrin Reservation, Oxbow Lagoon area, Cleveland Metroparks

So I often take my recording equipment out to the more rural parks and preserves, hoping it’s quiet enough to make some rather nice recordings for my programs and blog posts. I may have to do a certain amount of editing, but at least it seems possible…

…unless- or really, until the inevitable jet approaches. There’s no way to eliminate that wide range of frequencies from a recording. All I can do is wait impatiently, hoping the jet and the long trails of sound behind it will be gone before the bird or insect moves or stops singing.

Although I get frustrated and disgusted, noise significantly impacts the birds. This is how they communicate, especially when they can’t see each other. This is how many young birds learn the songs of their species. Males impress females with their virtuosity and repertoire.They challenge and set boundaries with other males of their species with their songs. Young birds need to learn their songs by ear – if they can hear the adults’ songs well enough to imitate them. For me, not hearing the songs clearly is angering, frustrating, and deeply sad. But for the birds, it affects their survival.

So how should I define noise? Is it everything humans do that affects birds, amphibians, and singing insects’ ability to be heard - and affects other humans as well? 

I recently drove almost 40 miles east to the Geauga Park District’s Observatory Park east of Chardon with hope that I'd find enough quiet to hear the bird song repertoire clearly.

 

At first, it seemed like it should be possible. There was no one around- just a couple of cars plus a few trucks on the road involved in some kind of maintenance work. I started walking and listening, and I was eventually able to record a Hooded Warbler in the foreground with an Eastern Wood Pewee in the background, If you look at the sonogram, you can see the distinct shape of each bird's song

But there was an unnatural droning sound that I couldn’t overlook in the background. I heard it when I was recording the Ovenbird, too. 

What was it and where was it coming from, anyway?

I finally tracked it down. It was a tractor! That’s one I don’t hear in the city, though some of the landscaping companies that come around have riding mowers as big as tractors filling up the small front yards they’re mowing.

So was this noise? It’s human-produced, so probably yes. But it’s a farmer – just one guy out on his tractor in an agricultural field. I was disappointed, but more resigned than actually angry.

 

The next day, I went to Swine Creek Reservation in an area of Geauga County with a large Amish community. I hoped that this time, I would just hear horse hooves and buggies. I started recording near a small parking area at the wooded edge of a field.

An Indigo Bunting broadcasting his song from his perch on a dead tree limb was subsequently joined by a Song Sparrow. 

Lisa Rainsong · Indigo Bunting Joined By Song Sparrow

I decided I’d walk down to the creek, cross, and hike up the ridge on the other side. 

I began recording before crossing the creek but stopped when a mom and her kids arrived to play in the water. Soon, another mom and kids followed. No one was quietly pondering the wonders of nature. These kids were in the creek, and they were yelling and occasionally shrieking. 

But they should be playing outside in a creek and kids are going to yell.  It may prevent my being able to record, but I decided it’s not exactly noise.

I crossed the creek and began my walk into the forest. Although I seldom actually saw birds, I could hear those that were close, others more distant, and the begging calls of nestlings. 

 

Lisa Rainsong · Acadian Flycatcher Near Swine Creek

Recording is so much more than simply pressing the record button when someone is singing. It’s really about listening closely to the nuances of the songs I might miss otherwise. It’s also about context. What’s going on around this bird? Does he vary his songs? Is another male responding and challenging him? 

“Observation” isn’t only a visual term.

There are times when a habitat may look quite glorious yet is so dominated by human noise that birds are likely experiencing significant difficulty communicating with others of their species.  In addition, birds - and even smaller mammals - must be able to stay alert for avian alarm calls warning of an approaching predator. When the chipmunk starts calling, it's possible that the birds are paying attention as well. So as annoying as it may become after a while, this is not - in my opinion - noise.

Lisa Rainsong · Red - Eyed Vireo then an Upset Chipmunk

 

Doesn't this look attractive? It's a vibrant location I recently investigated after coming across it on a park district website.

                          Strongsville Wildlife Area, Mill Stream Run Reservation.

 It was full of birds when I arrived, yet I couldn’t hear them clearly because...

 

Just look at the sonogram! Can you see how the birdsong is being obliterated?

On the other side of the trees is a major freeway. Sadly, this is not the first time I’ve had to walk away from what looked like an intriguing habitat to study simply because of relentless human noise. 

Park districts can save, restore, and create vibrant habitats, but they can’t move freeways.

 

During this same time period, I went to one of my favorite places in all of NE Ohio: Lake Erie Bluffs. 

 

 I walked the bluff trail that's typically filled with Yellow Warblers, Catbirds. and Song Sparrows.

 

 

This particular Catbird was having a sonic struggle with a speedboat, however. 

 

 

Then just as I was recording an especially splendid Song Sparrow, a brisk walker crunched past on the fine gravel. 

 

I was surprised by how far away she was when my microphone first alerted me to her approach and how long after her passing I could still hear her. But was that  noise? No. She was just out for a walk.

Although I deeply love this park, I tend to stay away in the summer because of the noise from speed boats, jet skis, and yachts. No verbal description is needed here. I’ll just offer this recording from May 30th. . 

 

Of course, I’m not going to leave you with that sonic obscenity. Here’s the song of an excellent Gray Catbird at Lake Erie Bluffs. There's a train in the distance, as is often the case there.

 

I’ll close with the song of Swine Creek itself. 

 

What are your biggest noise offenders? What are the sounds that are loud or annoying but not noise? (To me, that would be Common Grackle fledglings outside the window as I write, the whining Blue Jay fledglings, and the crowd of European Starling fledglings that have finally moved along from their residency at the backyard feeders.) And what gets a pass because there’s a certain connection for you, like train whistles for me?

You can leave messages on this blog (listeninginnature.blogspot.com), on my Facebook page if that’s where you found this blog post, or even by email if that's how you received an update from me. (Lisa.rainsong@listeninginnature.com.)

Shall I add some of your responses to the end of this post? Check back and see!  

                                                Observatory Park, Geauga County
 

 

 

Going Home, Coming Home

  

I love March and April, as you probably know by now, but sometimes I wish May could slow down just a bit. I’d like a little more time to appreciate all the birds that are leaving, those that are passing through, and those that are arriving to spend the summer here.

Mid-spring brings travelers that use our welcoming backyard as a rest stop on their journey north. I’ve been keeping records since 1994, and I know who to expect and when they’re likely to pass through. There’s something reassuring about looking in my backyard record book and knowing almost to the day when various birds are likely to arrive.

There will be Yellow-rumped Warblers up in our large, old pin oak. Nashville Warblers will be in the birdbaths followed by Tennessee Warblers, and Swainson’s Thrushes will stop for a week or so in mid-May. Most years will also bring an Ovenbird, Hermit Thrush, or Wood Thrush foraging for insects in the oak leaves  from last year, and numerous warblers will search for insects high up in the oak flowers. 

 

 Swainson's Thrush across the driveway from our dining room window

 

Lisa Rainsong · Swainson's Thrush And Tennessee Warbler Montford 5 - 11 - 15

Listening for the return of birds who nest in northeast Ohio each summer is a joyful homecoming from this human’s point of view. I call it coming “home,” because it’s where they nest and their nestlings will grow, fledge, and hopefully survive migration and their winter residences to return again next spring.

This year, I decided to make multiple visits to one of my favorite places so I could listen to the sounds of spring migration in the second half of May.

When I finished all my academic work for the semester and my students were going home, I made five trips to Lake Erie Bluffs between May 19^th and 27^th. Birds moving north will stop and rest in the woods and meadows overlooking Lake Erie until a south wind helps them travel across to Canada. I wanted to listen more than do a visual search. Considering how early the trees and understory leafed out during the periods of hot weather ahead of the birds’ arrival, listening was an appropriate choice.

The avian choruses changed considerably in just four days and quite significantly during the entire week I made recordings of the birds I heard and where and with who they were singing.

 

Lisa Rainsong · Lake Erie Gentle Waves And Song Sparrow 5 - 20 - 21

As you listen, keep in mind that I was up on the bluffs that overlook Lake Erie. Sometimes, you’ll actually hear the waves that I could see from where I was standing. You may also hear the breeze from the lake in the broad leaves of cottonwoods in some places and the European black alders in others. And of course, there are humans with their loud boats and motorcycles (which annoy me greatly), and there are always trains (which don’t annoy me at all).

What I heard was a complex mixture of avian travelers and birds returning to their breeding territories. I typically emphasize “listening by habitat’ in my birdsong classes, but that doesn’t quite work in May – especially on the lakeshore.

For examples, Yellow Warblers are ubiquitous at Lake Erie Bluffs. There are more of these feisty yellow beauties in the shrubby, old-growth fields that anywhere else I go. Each of them has multiple song options and can quickly switch between them, making aural identification tricky until one learns their repertoire.

 

 

Lisa Rainsong · One Yellow Warbler Multiple Songs LEB 5 - 22 - 21

But on May 19 and 20, Yellow Warblers were plentiful even in the woods along the bluff edge trails. American Redstarts seemed more likely in that habitat, which is complicated by Yellow Warblers having a song variant similar to one of the American Redstart’s multiple songs. 

Visual identification was not helpful, as these small singers were seldom apparent in the leaves and branches.

 All I could do was study my sonograms after the fact and make my best guess. I was able to confirm one American Redstart among them. 

(This is as American Redstart I recorded at Lake Erie Bluffs five years ago singing exactly the song I heard this year. I've included this recording so you can hear what enabled me to confirm the Redstart mixed in with this year's Yellow Warblers. The Redstart sonograms also looked the same both years. )

Lisa Rainsong · American Redstart at Lake Erie Bluffs

Were there other warblers? Yes, but I couldn’t always separate them out of the overall texture because there were so many birds singing simultaneously!

It was easier to distinguish the birds with the slightly lower pitches and distinctive phrase patterns of the more recognizable songs. Robins were present– they’re in every habitat. Eastern Pewee? Yes – he’d just come back, as had the Red-eyed Vireo and Great Crested Flycatcher.

Northern Cardinals and the Tufted Titmice with their multiple song types had been there all along. Carolina Wren and House Wren? I typically hear them in the edges, but they both were in the woods along with the Gray Catbirds I typically hear in more open, shrubby habitat. There was even an Eastern Towhee singing back there!

I think you’ll have a good chance at picking out the individual species in this recording.

 

Lisa Rainsong · Great Crested House Wren Pewee Towhee Warblers LEB 5 - 20 - 21

.

But combining all these recent arrivals with the birds who are just passing through results in a lot of birds singing in an orchestral tutti. They were not taking solos.

I might make this exercise an annual ear training practice assignment for myself.

 

Another large chorus was performing in the open areas on the Lane Road side of the park, and that’s where I focused my attention next.

 

The number of warblers in the woods at the far western end of the park had diminished; and the Wood Thrush and Veery that joined them might actually stay for the summer. However, the primary ensemble was comprised of recently-returned summer residents in the open areas. These singers all belonged together in this habitat.

Near the shelter and the stairway down to the lake was a stand a trees and shrubs occupied by a Baltimore Oriole and also a Tufted Titmouse that was probably attracted to the nearby bird feeders. Every Baltimore Oriole has his own collection of unique melodic fragments, and male Tufted Titmice each have a repertoire of short, loud, repetitious songs. At first, I wasn’t sure which species I was hearing at times, though I was leaning toward titmouse. Ultimately, I realized it was actually both! 

 

Lisa Rainsong · Tufted Titmouse Baltimore Oriole Or Both LEB 5 - 20 - 21

 

Also singing on this side of Lake Erie Bluffs were Orchard Orioles, Warbling Vireos, Willow Flycatchers, Common Yellowthroats, American Goldfinches and an Indigo Bunting. A Yellow-breasted Chat was an occasional comic soloist. 

Here are two Common Yellowthroats whose personal shrubs are a little too close to each other.

              Common Yellowthroats are easy to hear but not so easy to see in their shrubs

Lisa Rainsong · Two Common Yellowthroats and Chatter Call LEB 5 - 22 - 21

 

Just the above-mentioned species together would be an impressive concert, but none of these comprised the largest sections of the ensemble.

Those were the Catbirds and Yellow Warblers: the signature sound of Lake Erie Bluffs.

 

The Brown Thrashers that arrived in April had already begun to quiet down – listen and watch for them in mid to late April if you’d like to hear their impressive, imitative serenades. Their role had now been taken over by the many Gray Catbirds that seemed to be singing from every large clump of grapevine-covered shrubs or venerable blackberry tangle. 

 

The Catbird in my recording was singing next to this small observation desk.

 

Lisa Rainsong · Catbird Next To Observation Deck LEB 5 - 25 - 21

 

There are more Yellow Warblers here than seems possible; one would think that at least some must be migrants. I’m amazed each year by how many nest here and have often had the delightful experience of being literally surrounded by them. 

 

Lisa Rainsong · Yellow Warblers Lake Erie Bluffs 5 - 19 - 21

 

I’ll close with one last story about the wooded ravine along the trail connecting the west side (Lane Road) with the east side (Clark Road) of the park. I went back on May 27^th, certain that by now that all those woodland Yellow Warblers would have crossed Lake Erie and the Catbirds would have relocated to more shrubby areas beyond the woods.

They were still there. And the one American Redstart I worked so hard to confirm?

Two male Redstarts flew right past my head with a female watching from behind me. 

 

My car was parked in the circle at the end of Lane Road, where two of my favorite singers were performing. Before I put away my recording equipment, I recorded the Orchard Oriole immediately followed by the Warbling Vireo (pictured below). 

Lisa Rainsong · Orchard Oriole Then Warbling Vireo LEB Lane Rd Circle 5 - 25 - 21

 

 

And as I walked and listened on those trails that week, I realized the birds weren’t the only ones coming home. 

For a comparison of Yellow Warbler and American Redstart songs, see my May 2016 post  http://listeninginnature.blogspot.com/search/label/American%20Redstart 

Lake Erie Bluffs is one of the Lake County Metroparks in NE Ohio about 35 miles northeast of Cleveland.

http://www.lakemetroparks.com/parks-trails/lake-erie-bluffs

Here’s a map of the two sides of the park and the trail that connects them. 

 

There is also beach access to the fascinating beach below where you can look up and observe the progression of the bluffs as they slide down to the lake. If you also look down, you'll find interesting and beautiful rocks and stones.

You can park in the lots at either the Clark Road entrance or the Lane Road entrance.  The circle at the end of Lane Road itself also has access to the trails.