Peete Ae er bOINe CB Url esTyEN 5 
A Year of Bird Notes 
By Mrs. Rose B. ENGEL 
JANUARY 16. Everything is hoar frost this morning but I hear a cheerful 
“chick-a-dee-dee.”’ Cannot locate him in the frosty branches, but he sounds 
great! 
February 2. Two nice fat Bluejays are hopping about in the snow near 
house. They seem to be picking up morsels from on top of the snow, the 
two most beautifully clothed and crested, one exactly like the other. 
February 10. One day of thawing weather and the Horned Larks are 
on the road everywhere Mother Earth shows through the snow. There 
must be a great number of these birds in Northeast Iowa. 
February 11. Flocks of Starlings, or ‘‘Bob-tailed Blackbirds” as some 
call them, are also out upon the road getting their grit, gravel, or what- 
have-you. 
March 7. Two below this morning and I hear the plaintive notes of the 
Phoebe, long drawn out, waiting for spring. He was perched a-top of the 
highest willow but took off when he discovered he was watched. 
March 9. Heard the Hairy Woodpecker this A.M., hard at work on a 
soft maple. He should be called “Rosie, the riveter’’; just such a noisy 
drill he was using. Lots of white and one spot of red on the back of 
his head. 
March 11. First Meadowlark appeared. His black bow looked cheerful 
this March day. 
March 12. The Killdeer came up on the south wind today, with his 
“kildee, kildee’’-in the sky as he sails over. 
March 13. A lone Robin perched in the tall ash tree for a minute or two 
and was gone. A small flock of Bluebirds went past flying north. 
March 24. “My friend: Flicker” is back again. Always we have the 
“Yellow-hammer” and as always we hear his call before we see him. 
March 26. Today and for several days I have heard a not-so-familiar 
song, and as I took the wash from the line I located the Song Sparrow. 
He was along the road on the ground and up into the Chinese elm which 
is just beginning to leaf out. 
March 29. This morning I can hear the mixed voices of birds: the 
Flicker’s voice stands out with his loud repeated note; the Pheasant’s coarse 
call; the Lark’s lovely notes; the Blackbird’s eerie song; the chirping of 
Sparrows; the song of the Song Sparrow; the barely distinguishable kildee 
of Mr. Killdeer; and, of course, Robin Redbreast. The Bluebirds I no 
longer hear, they having passed on to their summer homes; too much 
prairie here. 
April 8. A pair of Starlings have moved into the hollow elm. He sits 
and watches while she carries straw and twigs. As soon as another bird 
alights in the tree he is advised to move on by this male. The Starling 
male is a beautiful bird with his white beak and red feet and glistening 
peacock coat. Why does he have to be a bad bird? 
