In my last column I wrote about the general lack of warblers and other migrating songbirds I’ve seen this spring. I hope you’re having better luck, and thanks to those who shared their sightings with me. (Feel free to write at the addresses listed at the end of the column.)
My fortunes did not necessarily reverse during a recent stroll at a park, but the walk did give me cause to appreciate one reliable warbler species even more than usual. Warblers are small, often colorful, songbirds that migrate through New England each spring and fall.
This particular warbler I admired for so long the other day was a yellow warbler — or as I now know them: old faithful warbler.
This old faithful may not spew water 130 feet into the air like clockwork, but it is every bit as faithful as that old geyser out West.
Take a walk in May and chances are you’ll at least hear a yellow warbler. Finding one is a distinct possibility, too, as they usually are seen in low trees or shrubs, often singing from an obvious perch. Compare that to most warblers, which spend the vast majority of their time gleaning insects high among the tree tops hidden by leaves.
Catch a glimpse of a yellow warbler and you’ll immediately realize it is not your typical New England bird. Rather than sporting somewhat ordinary and drab plumage like many birds in our area, the yellow warbler is a brilliant flashy yellow with brown streaking on its chest. Large jet black eyes puncutate the bird’s appearance.
I call it a New England bird because it is one of the few warbler species that can be seen throughout the region from spring to fall. Most warbler species nest well north of southern New England, but yellow warblers are staking out nesting territory as you read this. Yellow warblers breed as far south as Virginia and as far north as upper Canada. We certainly get our share here in New England.
I’ve always had an affinity for the yellow warbler. I remember as a beginning birdwatcher being frustrated by migrating warblers. They are always heard, but often difficult to find high in the treetops. I’ve had my share of bouts with “warbler neck,” a condition caused by looking up into the trees for hours on end.
The yellow warbler, however, is kind to beginning birdwatchers. It sings a sweet song — sweet-sweet-sweet sweeter-than-sweet (according to the National Audubon Society field guide) — that is easily learned and recognizable. It also shows itself readily to birdwatchers as if curious to see who is walking through its turf. Not many migrant songbirds will do that.
The song of the yellow warbler is so ubiquitous in late spring and early summer that, once you learn the song, you hear it everywhere — and not just in the wilds of New England. I’ve heard it in the distance while walking through strip mall parking lots and even while driving on highways. I’m sure there’s a scientific explanation why you can hear the song of a five-inch bird while you’re driving 60 mph down the road, but I don’t know it. I just know I’ve experienced that phenomena numerous times.
This column in praise of yellow warblers is in no way intended to disparage the rest of the other warblers we enjoy seeing in New England. I just wanted to highlight my faithful friend the yellow warbler. It’s always there to greet you with its flashy colors and uplifting song.

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