Excerpts from a nice long recording expedition to Costa Rica in December 2023. Several days were spent at the San Gerardo Biostation in Bosque Eterno de los Niños (Children's Eternal Forest) cloud forest near Monteverde, several more in the lowland forest on the Eastern side of Osa Peninsula, and nearly two weeks on the coastal side of Osa.

I'll be adding more as I have a chance to comb through the full set of recordings.

Costa Rica 2023

I like birds. What can I say?

All birds were recorded by me, mostly in the United States' beautiful Pacific Northwest state of Washington.

Image credit given when not my own, all CC 1.0.

Avian Voices

A collection of long, unbroken soundscapes to soothe the working soul.

Soundscapes For The Working Mind

On the morning of 2021 May 17, I stepped out of my tent next to my favorite Okanogan wetland to collect a recorder and microphones I'd left attached to a pole the night. It was a cool, crisp Spring morning, but the life and voices of the marsh and lake were as active as always. This recording covers the Dawn Chorus, from 23 minutes before First Light (at 22:55, 04:46:58 PDT, click the comments below to playback directly) and through Sunrise (at 50:49, 05:14:41 PDT) for almost 90 minutes of what was really hours of singing and foraging.

The wind was light, and the cool air helped project voices across the lake. As always Red-winged Blackbirds, that most North American of wetland songbirds, flew about, singing, chasing, and defining territories. I was delighted to hear a Brewer's Blackbird, a shy cousin of the Red-winged, popping in and out of the mix. Their quick almost mechanical sounding songs can be easy to miss and often confused with a squeak of a fence. They have two prominent songs, a hinge-like squeak (23:39), and a soft "shuk-shuuk" like a film camera auto-winding between frames (24:29). For the '80s kids among us, I think it sounds more like a Kodak Disc Camera, but I digress...

Also hanging out, literally, are a pair of bats just trying to get some sleep (52:14 and later). I would have easily confused their audible chatter for the Tree Swallows that harried them endlessly, but watching it happen with my own eyes confirmed what I later heard on the recording. The 15 foot pole was topped by a large bucket to be used as a nesting box for waterfowl. This morning chattery Tree Swallows were using it as a resting spot between aerial acrobatics. The sleeping bats clinging to the underside of the bucket, however, did not like this idea and would angrily chatter and chase them away, at least until they finally fell fast asleep themselves.

Speaking of chatter boxes, a Song Sparrow (23:31) took up residence on a nearby shrub and lived up to his name, delivering clear variations of his song, playing with melody like a maestro. A Common Yellowthroat (43:47) flew in and out of the same shrub, trying to sing in or around the Sparrow, but his anxious warble never quite had the same thrilling clarity.

Songbirds aren't the only residents here, though. Across the lake, Canada Geese fly in-and-out, bringing their echoing honks with them, Pied-billed Grebes whoop-whoop almost seemingly out of control (47:12).

Prominent voices in this recording include Song Sparrows, Red-winged Blackbirds, Brewer's Blackbirds, Common Yellowthroats, Canada Geese, and Pied-Billed Grebes. When there's a lull in the background the occasional Western Meadowlark, Chickadee, Spotted Towhee, Chipping Sparrow, Yellow Chat, Tree Swallow, Mallard, American Wigeon, and Wood Duck.

Okanogan Wetland Morning

12min - 0415am, First Light
12-54 min - 0415-0457, DAWN
54min - 0457am, Sunrise

Large wildfires are once again uncontrollably threatening much of the intermountain west in North America. Just 5 miles/ 8 km from the oncoming edge of the Cub Creek fire here in Washington is one of my most favorite places to record  anywhere. Thirtymile Meadows is one of the very few places I know of in the continuous 48 United States that is neither rainforest nor remote island where I can set up my microphones, press record, and expect a soundscape free of human-generated noise for at least 4 hours to be the result. Sometimes it can be up to nearly a day.
This was a little more than a month ago, the morning of Summer Solstice. It’s merely an excerpt.

I don’t know if I’ll be able to record there again, at least not a soundscape such as this, filled with birdsong. It’s highly likely my next trip with be filled with the whistling winds that wind around burned snags, the creaking of swaying barren trunks, perhaps the snapping and falling of dead wood.

Stands up on soapbox:
These forests depend upon fire for their very survival, but the rejuvenating fire that feeds their growth is low-level, fuel-consuming, and under-story burning. It cracks open seeds for hardy conifers. It clears room for new seedlings. It brings down larger diseased trees, returning their nutrients to the soil.
The fires we see raging now are not those fires.
For decades we have managed these forests by preventing fire without clearing the accumulating fuels. In the effort to keep “timber stock” available for logging and to protect the encroaching human settlements, all fire is suppressed. Weakened and dried by the advancement of climate change, trees age without replacement while dense, dry growth builds up beneath.
A simple spark (a lightning strike, an untended campfire, the hot under-carriage of a vehicle, a cigarette butt) is all that is needed to start a conflagration that does not clear and rejuvenate, but destroys.
With both the understory and tree cover gone, the ground becomes loose and rocky. The Autumn rains, Winter snows, and Spring melts wash away the fertile soils that nurse future growth.
We lose forest, and it doesn’t grow back. Not all of it. The interiors are safe for now, and can slowly re-grow over the ensuing decades if left un-molested. The edges are gone, however, and each successive fire and monsoon season scales them back farther.
Thirtymile Meadows is at a unique interface of interior, edge, and wet meadow. The meadow will survive, as should the deep forest to its Northeast. The Southwest edge, though, will disappear if the Cub Creek Fire reaches it. Already scarred by human-caused fires nearly twenty years ago, the Southern edge is dry, fuel-filled, and loose.

I don’t have an answer. I don’t have a plan. I just want to make people aware.

I also want to share the beauty of soundscapes that are in danger of disappearing, whether from noise pollution or ecosystem loss.

2021 - 06 - 21 ThirtymileMeadows Across The Dawn

Constant heavy rain with small drops on broadleaf vegetation, mostly Maple

Rain, Heavy, Small Drops on Broadleaf

Gray Catbird, Dumetella carolinensis, one long developing song string, clean processed from original parabolic recording
family: Mockingbirds and Thrashers

Gray Catbirds are most easily recognizable from their characteristic "mew" like a loud cat, but males are also well known for long, developing song performances that include whistles, squeaks, gurgles, whines, nasal tones, even mimicry of other birds.

If you hear a long seemingly random performance coming from spikey shrubs, listen carefully to the phrasing. Where true Mockingbirds tend to repeat phrases three or more times and Brown Thrashers tend to repeat phrases twice before continuing, Gray Catbirds sing phrases almost at random with some repeated notes.

image credit: "Gray Catbird" by Mike's Birds is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0

Northwest Birds

Gray Catbird, Dumetella carolinensis, Looonnng Song Performance

Eastern Narrowmouth Toads, Gastrophryne carolinensis
small pod in a dense Louisiana swamp, emitting cute little whines as they search for one another during mating season, 2022-04-14
crickets, birds, and pig frogs in background, stereo decoded form double mid-side original
photo is original, on location

Eastern Narrow-mouthed Toads

A long soundscape across Dawn in the Queets River Valley rainforest of the Olympic National Park. Starting in Astronomical Twilight, a small herd of Roosevelt Elk walks in from a distance, though a small forest glade, an away towards the Queets River bed.

Early Autumn rainfall and dropping Maple Leaves are the dominant sounds to begin, their pak-pak-spaks are a reminder that time passes, even in the still quiet of a moss-covered forest.

Highway 101 in less than 12 miles away, and distant traffic is funneled up the Valley, showing the difficulty of escaping human-generated sound. This has been mitigated somewhat with light processing, but close listening and inspection will make remnants evident. There are no other edits or processes committed.

I love the crisp cold air of the rainforests in the fall. Sounds, natural and human generated, carry into the distant. Tucked into my sleeping bag, I lay back in my small tent, listening to the forest awaken. Where once there was just the soft distant wash of the river, the elk are joined by the local birds. Steller's Jays shriek their song with grating-yet-amusing "CHA-CHA-CHA-CHAs". A Northern Saw-whet toots in the forest canopy. Young Varied Thrush practice their songs, not quite reaching the beautiful and haunting signature fluting of their predecessors, instead emitting a silly buzzer-bell-like noise. Pacific Wren singing at the end of their season and the occasional Kingfisher make an appearance as well. Noe of these complete with the sheer vibrance of the elk.

Roosevelt Elk or Roosevelt's Wapiti or Rainforest Elk are the largest remaining elk species in North America and thrive in shadowy silences of the Pacific Northwest's temperate rainforests. Bull's bugles and roars echo through the trees, becoming one of the signature sounds of the Olympic Mountains. The cows mew and squeal in return, listening for one another to not wander far astray.

The small herd is a tight-nit family group, a with one, maybe two, dominant bulls, five or six cows in their harem, and a handful of young. The dominant bull leads the group on a daily hike, down from the upper valley to the river and back again. Their bugles urge the group, both signaling the direction to go and scolding those that dawdle. As they pass through the glade, their heavy footfall on the vegetative floor thump-thump-thumps their presence as much as the vocalizations and the continued crushing of vegetation as they push by.

I can't get enough of their energy. They pull back frequently. No matter how many times I encounter them, Elk never cease to awe me.

Click through the comments below for some highlights!

Northwest Soundscapes

Queets River Valley Rainforest Dawn with Roosevelt Elk

A sample of frog voice recordings contained in Northwest Soundcapes' "Northwest Voices" and "Southwest Voices" libraries, all recorded by Andy Martin

image credit: "Bullfrog_Nick Myatt 02" by Oregon Department of Fish & Wildlife is marked with Public Domain Mark 1.0. To view the terms, visit https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0//?ref=openverse.

Northwest Voices

True Frogs - American Bullfrog, serenades

A recent Spring Dawn in the Queets Rainforest inside the Olympic National Park
The air is cool and the light is filtered through a canopy of Sitka Spruce and Douglas Fir, Pacific Chorus Frogs crowded in an ephemeral wet-spot seemingly don't know if it's day or night as they sing around the clock here. The river sounds like a soft pillow in the distance, a dull roar that is more comforting than disturbing, fading away behind a biophonic meditation.

As twilight dawns with First light, local birds join the the chorus with the frog. Varied Thrushes with their nasally mysterious alarm-like cry. Pacific Wrens who seemingly believe that everyone needs to hear what they have to say. Song Sparrows with some of the happiest song ever to delight. A Chestnut-backed Chickadee that inspects the microphones, pulling little tufts of the wind protection to pad a nest. Northern Flickers and Chipmunks compete to see who has the best chatter.

All the while, the frogs continue on in cycles of chorused and cycles of silence, punctuated only by the occasional encounter trill or inquiring contact croak.

Queets Rainforest, Vernal Dawn Chorus With Frogs

Roosevelt Elk, or Rainforest Elk or Olympic Elk, selected from a brief trip in late September 2023.

Recorded in the Queets and Quinalt Rainforest River Valleys, there's often an unavoidable distant wash of river in the background, so each example is very lightly processed with the unprocessed source immediately following.

I record elk by leaving recorders out in the field where herds are known to migrate. Occasionally I'm able to follow a herd and record more direct, but I do not want to alarm the herd or stress them unnecessarily, so I often avoid this method.

Bugles are multi-toned calls that start low and transition into a scream. During the rut season, Bulls use this to express dominance over other males, warding off potential rivals, and attract potential mates. Outside of the rut they will often bugle when leading a herd.

Chuckles, or laughs, sound just like that, a series of short loud grunts. Like bugles, chuckles are used as a form of dominance and attraction call. I've often heard them used when a bull is specifically calling his harem to gather. They'll produce chuckles on their own, or sometimes tag them onto the end of a bugle.

image credit: "Roosevelt Elk Bugling-Unknown" by Forest Service Pacific Northwest Region is marked with Public Domain Mark 1.0. To view the terms, visit https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/?

Roosevelt Elk Bugle with follow-up Chuckle

Roosevelt Elk Bugle with low chesty roar

Monos Congos, or Mantled Howler Monkeys, waking the jungle in Costa Rica's Parque Nacional Corcovado.

Male Mantled Howlers can be heard from several kilometers away, estimated to be loudest vocalization of any terrestrial mammal. With their distinctive grunt and and calls, they are a defining aspect of the Osa Peninsula's Dawn and Dusk, but they can also be heard throughout the day, generally in response to disturbances.

If I'm being honest, my favorite aspect of the Howler's call isn't the call itself, but those wonderful vocal croaks and creaks between calls. The echoes of the beautiful Cost Rican hardwood primary forest and the deep river valley practically hug these voices, letting shine and sing as nothing else.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mantled_howler

Mantled Howler Monkeys in Corcovado morning twilight

Black Hawk-Eagle, Spizaetus tyrannus, calling from a nearby perch early in the morning of 2023-12-04

Family: Accipitridae

The Black Hawk-Eagle is a frequent soarer in the skies of Neotropical American forests

Excerpt from a long soundscape recording from San Gerardo Biological Station in Provincia Guanacaste, Costa Rica

image credit: "aguililla-negra menor, buse noire, common black hawk, common black-hawk" by Dario Taraborelli is marked with CC0 1.0. To view the terms, visit http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/?ref=openverse.

AMNS Costa Rica

Black Hawk-eagle, Spizaetus tyrannus

Black-faced Solitaire, Myadestes melanops - song
(background: Common Chlorospingus)

Family: Turdidae

The tonal, metallic voice of the Black-faced Solitaire is heard in  dense montane habitats at higher elevations of Costa Rica.

Excerpt from a long soundscape recording from San Gerardo Biological Station in Provincia Guanacaste, Costa Rica on the morning of 2023-12-04

image credit: "black-faced solitaire" by Dario Taraborelli is marked with CC0 1.0. To view the terms, visit http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/?ref=openverse.

Black-faced Solitaire, Myadestes melanops 01

Black-faced Solitaire, Myadestes melanops - song
(background: Common Chlorospingus)

Family: Turdidae

The tonal, metallic voice of the Black-faced Solitaire is heard in  dense montane habitats at higher elevations of Costa Rica

Excerpt from a long soundscape recording from San Gerardo Biological Station in Provincia Guanacaste, Costa Rica, on the morning of 2023-12-04

image credit: "black-faced solitaire" by Dario Taraborelli is marked with CC0 1.0. To view the terms, visit http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/?ref=openverse.

Black-faced Solitaire, Myadestes melanops 02

Scale-crested Pygmy-Tyrant, Lophotriccus pileatus

Family: Tyrannidae

The piecing-voiced Scale-crested Pygmy-Tyrant  ranges in high mountain forests throughout Middle America.

Excerpt  from a long soundscape recording from San Gerardo Biological Station in Provincia Guanacaste, Costa Rica, on the morning of 2023-12-04.

image credit: "scale-crested pygmy tyrant, scale-crested pygmy-tyrant" by Guy Babineau is marked with CC0 1.0. To view the terms, visit http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/?ref=openverse.

Scale-crested Pygmy-Tyrant 01

ScaleCrested PygmyTyrant 02

Song Wren, Cyphorhinus phaeocephalus

Family Troglodytidae

The mechanical, clunky song of the Song Wren, an inhabitant of lowland tropical rainforests of Middle America that is often seen foraging at higher elevations.

Excerpt  from a long soundscape recording from San Gerardo Biological Station in Provincia Guanacaste, Costa Rica, on the morning of 2023-12-04.

original - "song wren" by Dario Taraborelli is marked with CC0 1.0. To view the terms, visit http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/?ref=openverse.

Song Wren 01

I had the pleasure of spending the month of December 2023 recording in a few different jungle locations in Costa Rica. The experience was wonderful and inspiring. Most of the trip was spent on Osa Peninsula, in lodges that bordered Parque Nacional Corcovado (Corcovado National Park).

The peninsula and the park are recognized as one of the most biodiverse regions on the planet, with 2.5% of the world's species represented, many of them endemic.

While the history of the park is fraught with controversy dating back to European colonization, the importance of conservation cannot be understated. 

My recordings are filled with wonderful moments that deserve to be heard. I'm parsing through everything, but I thought I'd start with one of my favorite, 90 minutes midnight insect chorusing. Growing up in the mid-Atlantic states of the US and with roots and time lived in the Deep South, few sounds bring me to a state of transcendence like the orchestrated song of insects at night. The spectrally tight but densely-layered score of hundreds or thousands of insects in concert is soothing to the ears and the best sleep-aid I can experience for myself. From time to time hungry bats flutter past.

Normally I'd point out a few voices along the way, but I'm out of my depth when it comes to identifying insects in neotropical forests, so I'll let the ecosystem speak for itself.

Recorded at Finca Sueño De Osa Lodge, Puerto Jimenez, Costa Rica

Parque Nacional Corcovado https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corcovado_National_Park

Interested in my recordings? Contact me here: https://linktr.ee/AndyMartinNatureSound

Costa Rica Midnight Insect Chorus near Corcavado

I got to spend December 2023 recording in several jungle locations in Costa Rica. The experience was wonderful and inspiring. Most of the trip was spent on Osa Peninsula, in lodges that bordered Parque Nacional Corcovado (Corcovado National Park). With nearly 2.5% of the world's species represented, many of them endemic, it is  recognized as one of the most biodiverse regions on the planet.

On the same morning as the previous  Midnight Chorus recording https://soundcloud.com/soundeziner/cr-fincasueno-midnightchorus, a troop of Golden Mantled Howler Monkeys greeted the Dawn and their neighbors (and the rest of the jungle) the only way they know how. Male mantled howlers have an enlarged hyoid bone, a hollow amplifying bone near their vocal cords that gives the ability to generate great "howling"  calls that can heard for kilometers.  Howling allows the monkeys to exercise territory and remain in contact  without expending energy through movement or bearing the risks of physical confrontation. As someone who likes little more than sitting in a forest listening to nature speak, I approve of this lazing behavior.

While this howling is their most well-known vocal characteristic, I'm rather fond of the popping and grunting that warms up to the howl and pads the time in between. It's relatively quiet, and is most noticeable only when near the vocalizing howler. The best description of it that I can think of is like the "vocal fry" not uncommon in many of today's pop singers. Check it out near the start of the first round of howling around 2:40 (link in the comments)

After a first round of loud howls, the group takes a break. With what is known about Mantled Howler activity, they're likely sleeping, or maybe eating. After 20-is minutes, they pick up again for a brief session before settling back down. It's possible they've been moving during this time as they're quieter during this round. Finally, just before Sunrise at 05:38 in the morning, they pick up again, slowly building and then tapering off after nearly 30 minutes of vocal exercising.

After speaking with other recordists, I know I am far from alone as someone who loves their sound, but I I may be one of the few that enjoys waking up to their calls. Every morning I heard this in the distance or nearby was a morning I walked out to breakfast with a big silly grin on my face.

Another voice that has become a personal favorite is the Yellow-throated Toucan, with their rhythmic, bouncing song that seems to carry on forever. There is at least one singing for most of this recording, but you can get your first good listen behind the Howlers at 53:27 or skip ahead to 1:06:02 to hear two singing at each other.

Hummingbirds are abundant, and you'll hear their buzzing wings fly by and around the microphones numerous times. Also coming and going are raucous and noisy Scarlet Macaws and Red-lored Parrots, a lone Red-eyed Tree Frog, a visiting Little Tinamou, and more. 

I'll point out a few voices along the way in the comments, but I'm out of my depth when it comes to identifying neotropical birds, so I'll largely let the ecosystem speak for itself. Feel free to poke around with links in the comments to scoot around the recording, or just let it play out over your morning coffee like I do.

Feel like seeing some fancy colors? I've been playing at visualizing soundscapes lately. Check out the video for this recording on YouTube: https://youtu.be/duxU2INkyXI?si=xhIrgiHiOSOk922l

AMNS Costa Rica 01

Golden Mantled Howlers at Dawn

Canyon Wren, Catherpes mexicanus, 3 performed songs, singing from top of cliff, parabolic single-species recording, timing condensed, but natural pace, rhythm, and dynamics maintained, clean processed for clarity, family: Wrens

Canyon Wren, Catherpes mexicanus

With a voice both louder and deeper than belies its small size, the laconic-yet-vociferous Yellow-breasted Chat is one of the more enigmatic songbirds of North America. Widespread across the continent, but rarely found in dense numbers, this bird skulks about in dense thickets in riparian zones and other shrubby habitats. Nesting deep in the thicket, but singing from a barely-exposed perch, Yellow-breasted Chats are more often seen than heard in late Spring and early Summer, when males produce long soliloquies in search for a mate (or sometimes two). Taxonomically confounding, Yellow-breasted Chats exist in a monophylitic clade of their own, being the sole species, virens, of the sole genus, Icteria, of the family Icteriidae. Its closest genetic cousins are the family Icteridae (New World Blackbirds and Orioles), with the two forming clade that is adjacent to the Parulidae (Wood-warblers), a family the Yellow-breasted Chat seems to share more features with (genetics notwithstanding).

Recorded on Summer Solstice, 2024, in the Okanogan region of Washington State, this particular singer was a surprise. I’d been hiking around one of my favorite campgrounds, enjoying the recent explosion of late-Spring songbirds, when I noticed a thicket that was particularly favored by local Lazuli Buntings. Nice Buntings recordings being a goal of this trip, I quickly set up a new favorite quick-set recorder: an AB pair of Oaka Instruments’ Verdi (version 1, the copper bodies) at the end of selfie sticks on screw spikes. They’re simple to place, sturdy, and very lightweight, making them great for hiking placements. I left this overnight so the Buntings could have time to sing as they saw fit.

Imagine my surprise when listening back to the recordings and found more than an hours’ worth of a Yellow-breasted Chat singing close by, as if I’d set these microphones up just for him. This clip is just a nice example, unmastered.

more info from the Cornell Lab of Ornithology: https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Yellow-breasted_Chat/

image credit:
"852 - YELLOW-BREASTED CHAT (6-1-11) de anza trail north from rio rico dr, rio rico, scc, az - (3)" by Sloalan is marked with CC0 1.0. To view the terms, visit https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/?ref=openverse.

Yellow-breasted Chat Time

Western Meadowlark, Sturnella neglecta

An abundant and widely distributed grassland bird of North America, it's a common voice in the wide open spaces in the Pacific Northwest's drier inland regions and sagebrush seas.

Unlike the more well-recognized song of the Western Meadowlark (see https://soundcloud.com/soundeziner/birdsong-troupials-and-allies-western-meadowlark), the roll of this call is to reinforce the bonding between a mated pair. Serving as both a contact and an alert, this is the male's counterpart to the female's quiet rattle. This particular male, recorded in the evening light of Summer Solstice 2024 in the beautiful Sinlahekin Valley, used this call to lure a female around the meadow. He would continually call and whistle until she would fly close. Then he hopped down to the ground an called for her to follow. This repeated over and over, with him slowly luring her around the meadow. I don't know if it's a breeding pattern or if they were just playing, but it WAS fascinating.

I'm not cleaning this recording as might usually do because I just love, LOVE the distant echo off the riparian border from his loud whistle. It's a joy to my ears.

image credit: "Western Meadowlark Huron Wetland Management District" by USFWS Mountain Prairie is marked with Public Domain Mark 1.0. To view the terms, visit https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/?ref=openverse.

Western Meadowlark

Veery, Catharus Fuscescens

Another LBB Thrush: Little Brown Bird

Like the Swainson's Thrush, Hermit Thrush, and Wood Thrush, a Veery's drab brown appearance in no way prepares you for the traditional Thrushy flutiness of its song. A down-turned, slightly depressed song in comparison to the raw beauty of a Swainson's or haunting loneliness of the Hermit and Wood Thrushes, the Veery nonetheless weaves a complex tapestry of beauty.

Cleaned for example and raw source included from a parabolic original

image credit: "grive fauve, veery, zorzal rojizo" by Mark Connolly is marked with CC0 1.0. To view the terms, visit http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/?ref=openverse.

Veery

Red-eyed Vireo, Vireo olivaceus

A common breeding songbird in the woodlands of eastern North America, but found throughout the Pacific Northwest.

This delightful little singer was recorded on Summer Solstice, 2024, in Sinlahekin Valley in the Okanogan high country of Washington State in the beautiful Pacific Northwest.

Cleaned and original parabolic source

image credit: "Red-eyed Vireo Female" by ksblack99 is marked with Public Domain Mark 1.0. To view the terms, visit https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/?ref=openverse.

Red-eyed Vireo

Red-eyed Vireo, Vireo olivaceus

A common breeding songbird in the woodlands of eastern North America, but found throughout the Pacific Northwest.

This delightful little friend was recorded on Summer Solstice, 2024, in Sinlahekin Valley in the Okanogan high country of Washington State in the beautiful Pacific Northwest.

Cleaned and original parabolic source

Image credit: "Red-eyed Vireo" by U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service - Northeast Region is marked with Public Domain Mark 1.0. To view the terms, visit https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/?ref=openverse.

Appropriately named after the brilliant gemstone Lapis Lazuli, the Lazuli Bunting is a persistent singer throughout it's range during breeding season.

Each male has its own distinct song, usually "crystalized" around two years of age. During their first hatching season, young males may babble experimental notes, but they do not learn from their fathers. Instead, they copy and interpret snippets of song from other adult males beginning their second season, developing their own unique phenology. This crystalizes into a single song unique to that male but part of a "song neighborhood" with other males hatched and fledged in the same breeding territory.

Conspicuously perched and showing off their brilliant blue colors, males sing dawn through dusk.

Recorded in Sinlahekin Valley on Summer Solstice 2024, this is but one male of many that filled the morning air with beauty. Listen to another recorded nearby here: https://on.soundcloud.com/UjtQYDknPNdseKrx5

More about the Lazuli Bunting on eBird: https://ebird.org/species/lazbun

image credit: "923 - LAZULI BUNTING (4-27-11) paton's, patagonia, az (1)" by Sloalan is marked with CC0 1.0. To view the terms, visit https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/?ref=openverse.

Lazuli Bunting on Summer Solstice

Appropriately named after the brilliant gemstone Lapis Lazuli, the Lazuli Bunting is a persistent singer throughout it's range during breeding season.

Each male has its own distinct song, usually "crystalized" around two years of age. During their first hatching season, young males may babble experimental notes, but they do not learn from their fathers. Instead, they copy and interpret snippets of song from other adult males beginning their second season, developing their own unique phenology. This crystalizes into a single song unique to that male but part of a "song neighborhood" with other males hatched and fledged in the same breeding territory.

Conspicuously perched and showing off their brilliant blue colors, males sing dawn through dusk.

Recorded in Sinlahekin Valley on Summer Solstice 2024, this is but one male of many that filled the morning air with beauty. Listen to another recorded nearby here: https://on.soundcloud.com/yJ7Ssa34uUxojzKZA

More about the Lazuli Bunting on eBird: https://ebird.org/species/lazbun

image credit: "BUNTING, LAZULI (4-29-11) sonoita creek state natural area, scc, az -01b" by Sloalan is marked with CC0 1.0. To view the terms, visit https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/?ref=openverse.

A short representative collection of elk (and a few birds) from a recent expedition. These are all excerpts from the same 3.5 hour recording on the morning of September 18, starting pre-dawn. It was rutting season in the Colockum Wildlife area, and just before the start of open hunting season, so the males were out, about, and vocal. These are raw tracks, down-mixed to stereo (from double-m/s), normalized to -23 LUFS and down-sampled to 48k with no other filtering.
Geophony: The Colockum is a high plateau on the eastern side of the Casade Mountain range between Wenatchee and Ellensburg, WA. With steep drainage-carved ravines, dry grass, rolling hills, and scarce water, it is a difficult, rough terrain. Abundant Ponderosa Pine, Spruce, and some Firs provide variably-dense stands for the elk's bugling to echo from. A mighty wind storm had blown through during the night, with some occasional gusting still noticeable in the trees.
Anthrophony: None in these recordings
Biphony: Elk, mostly bulls bugling, screaming, roaring, whistling, and chirping. Occasional high-pitched mews from the cows can be heard. Some morning birds are present also, including jays, ravens, chickadees, and a woodpecker. There may be a squirrel present.

Elk Bull Bugle

I spent a night in a bed of moss, listening to the sounds of Springtime Alaskan boreal taiga in the twilight. Nearby swam a pair of loons. A beaver circled, territorially slapping the water with its tail.
I smiled and listened.

Location: Long Lake, Talkeetna, AK

Weather: variable over the course of the night, 49-61°F, light to no wind, humidity rose from 31-52%

Geophony: Clear lake in a hilly boreal taiga, dominated by White Spruce, Bird, and thick beds of diverse mosses

Anthrophony: myself @90 feet, distant ambient generators (most of which I’ve edited out)

Biophony: Common Loon (Gavia Immer), Swainson’s Thrush (Catharus Ustulatus), American Robin (Turdus migratorius), other birds I don’t recognize, Beaver, insects (mostly white flies & mosquitos), river otter (visible, but silent)

For the gear curious:
stereo downmix from double mid-side
mid channels: MKH8040x2
side channel: MKH30
recorder: Zaxcom MAXX

Swainson's Thrush - Catharus Ustulatus - surrounded

Swainson's Thrush - Catharus Ustulatus - thrush heaven

Common Loon - Gavia Immer - wail

Long Lake, a mid-night chorus

I was asked recently to provide a few select examples of elk bugling and realized I've never made an attempt to master or isolate some of my favorites. I've included them here.

Elk - Male bugle

Elk - Male bugle, scream and laugh

Twilight, Dawn, and Sunrise in the Olympic National Forest, on Rugged Ridge near Sitkum and Calawah Rivers.
Species include: Western Screech Owl, Varied Thursh, Pacific Wren, American Robin

Starting during Nautical Twilight on March 30, 2019, we're first greeted by distant Western Screech Owls.
The forest is soft. It rained last night and the moss-covered trees are still dripping in in the early light. The distant Calawah and Sitkum Rivers are awash in the background.
The First Varied Thrush arrives almost six minutes in and is quickly followed by awakening Pacific Wrens and American Robins. By the time Civic Twilight begins at 06:28 (18mins) we have a nice chorus of local life. Everyone is saying hello, good morning, how do you do?
Sunrise arrives at 06:59 (49mins), and almost immediately we're greeted by a Robin that swoops in to hang out and chatter for a while. Welcome, he says, to my home on the Olympic Peninsula.

Olympic National Forest Awakening

Thirtymile Meadows is a wet, subalpine meadow high in the Okanogan National Forest. A natural shallow bowl, it collects meltwater from each winter and slowly drains away through innumerable soft tinkling streams. In such a wide open space it can be difficult to know where to point microphones. When I visited in the Summer of 2019 I was never certain where the next morning's dawn chorus would arrive from. Past migrant season there was no consistent resting place for the wildlife every night.

Filled with chipmunks, Hermit Thrushes, Olive-sided Flycatchers, Lincoln's Sparrows, White-crowned Sparrows, Woodpeckers, Ravens, Clark's Nutcrackers, American Robins, and more, the meadow is a feast for the eyes and ears of the quiet observer.

This meadow and the surrounding scarred forest are still recovering from the massive Thirtymile Wildfire that began from an unattended campfire almost 20 years ago. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thirtymile_Fire They stand as a testimony to the resilience of nature against all that we humans throw at it. Fragile ecosystems are stronger than we once believed, but our negligence does them no favors. 

This is the same meadow as our friend the coyote. In fact, this recording is from the very same overnight. https://soundcloud.com/soundeziner/sets/coyote-in-the-high-country

Beginning in twilight silence, we progress through the earliest voices of First Light at 32 minutes and Sunrise at 72 minutes. After a brief period of the dawn rush of air, we spend the last hour listening in on the comings-and-goings and daily lives of Thirtymile Meadows. Throughout it all, the soft occasional tinkling of water flows around and beneath.

Unfortunately, one of my microphones failed overnight, and I ended up with a lopsided recording. I've accounted for this somewhat in the the master, but it's an imperfect image that I'm hoping to replace this summer when I return.

This recording can also be enjoyed at Northwest Soundscapes, here:
http://soundeziner.com/2020/05/thirtymile-dawn/

Thirtymile Dawn

A lone Grey Wolf howls in the late morning, losing itself to the natural reverb of a glacial valley

Grey Wolves were all but extirpated from Washington early in the last century. They've been on a slow but steady recovery now for decades. While still a species of high concern in the Northwest, occasions of hearing their mournful cries are thankfully becoming more and more common.

This is not without controversy, unfortunately, as ranchers fear their livelihoods will be destroyed and hunters express concern over the competition for game animals. My general feeling is this is good, however. The mass numbers of humanity living in former wolf territory and the introduction of highly destructive and invasive farm and game animals such as cattle, pigs, chickens, bullfrogs, pheasant, etc, have had long-lasting, oft-permanent destructive consequences on our ecological systems. That wolves are able to reclaim some territory on their own despite the historical effort to eliminate them is a testimony to their tenacity as a species.

The challenges are great, though, and humanity does not make it easy for other apex predators to survive in a world we claim as our own to despoil at will. Wolves need help all around North America. To help recovery efforts and the benefits they can provide, consider supporting a conservation effort such as The International Wolf Center https://wolf.org or a sanctuary and rehabilitation center such as Wolf Haven International https://wolfhaven.org. For more information on their spread and recovery in Washington, read this informational pamphlet from the Washington Department of Fish & Wildlife https://bit.ly/2NvfgXW

image credit: "File:Grey Wolf Portrait.jpg" by Jean Beaufort is marked with CC0 1.0. To view the terms, visit http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/deed.en?ref=openverse.

Lone Wolf Howls

Field Recordist / Sound designer
Shhhhh. Listening to nature.

To license sounds or for all other inquiries: info@andymartinsound.com

#naturesound #naturesoundscape #fieldrecording #naturesounds #savequiet #listentonature #soundscape

Andy Martin, Field Recordist

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