By Scott Finley
I’m old enough to have grown up in the era of presidential initials. Anyone else remember DDE, JKF, and LBJ? But since I have been birding, the initials LBJ have come to mean something entirely different: Little Brown Jobs, also known as those puzzling little birds that seem to be maddeningly similar and can present quite a challenge to identify.
Most, but not all, LBJs are one of the species of sparrows, those small, brownish birds that invariable vanish just as you’ve gotten your binoculars raised. There are over 40 species of native sparrows found in the US, but fortunately, there are only seven or so that one is likely to encounter in the Foothills, and only four that regularly breed here—but that’s plenty enough to cause confusion. Our most common local sparrows are probably the White-crowned, Golden-crowned, Rufous-crowned, Lark, Fox, Savannah and Lincoln’s Sparrows.
The reason sparrows can be so difficult to identify is that they are almost all smallish, generally brownish, often with streaky plumage, have stubby conical bills–and are frustratingly quick. Let’s meet some.
Of course, there’s the ubiquitous House Sparrow (Passer domesticus), which actually isn’t an American sparrow at all. The House Sparrow is an Old World species of weaver finch that was introduced to the New World from England in 1851 for farm pest control—except it is primarily a seed-eater. Oops! It has since become one of the more abundant birds on the continent. Many people are probably familiar with it because of its close association with human habitation and its prominent black bib.
Perhaps my favorite is the Lark Sparrow (Chondestes grammacus), so named for its lark-like song. A bird of fields and woodland edges, with its harlequin black, white and chestnut brown striped head pattern, it is unlikely to be confused with any other sparrow. When flushed, its tail edges show a flash of white. It is common in flocks at all times of the year.
Another candidate for songster of the Foothills is the aptly named Song Sparrow (Melospiza melodia). A proficient singer, the Song Sparrow prefers wetter, brushier habitats than the Lark Sparrow. Its streaky, stripy brown and grey plumage helps it disappear into the tangles, but its best identification mark are the streaks on its chest that coalesce into a prominent central dark spot. Song plus spot usually equals Song Sparrow.
The other singer from the shadows is the skulking Lincoln’s Sparrow (Melospiza lincolnii). Streaky and stripey like the Song Sparrow, but smaller, and with an inconspicuous breast spot, its song has been described as “sweet and gurgling”, but to be honest, that’s how many birdsongs sound to me.
Then there’s “crowned” sparrows, so named because of the distinctive striping on their heads. A big difference between the White-crowned Sparrow (Zonotrichia leucophrys) and the Golden-crowned Sparrow (Zonotrichia atricapilla) is—wait for it—the color of their crowns! Both species are common to abundant winter visitors, feed warily on the ground (sometimes mixed flocks), quickly retreat to nearby brushy cover at the first sign of alarm, and can be identified by their distinctive singing. My favorite is the Golden-crown Sparrow’s rather plaintive descending three note song that some say sounds like “Oh, dear, me”. I hear the cheerier “Three, more, beers”!
The wary Rufous-crowned Sparrow (Aimophilia ruficeps) is a relatively less common, more solitary, bird that may be found on rockier hillsides. It prefers to run to cover rather than fly when sensing danger. Its rufous crown is distinctive, but be aware that both White-crowns and Golden-crowns can exhibit more brownish highlights on their crowns in winter and when immature.
Then there’s the Savannah Sparrow (Passerculus sandwichensis), the epitome of the LBJs. They are brown or dark brown, streaked on back and breast, and streak away when flushed from their resting spots on open grassland. If you are lucky enough to catch a glimpse, they have a slight wash of yellow on their supercilium, which is a fancy ornithological word for eyebrow area.
Confusing things even further, be aware that in addition to these sparrows, there are a myriad of other LBJs that might be encountered in the Foothills, including the Grasshopper, Chipping, Fox, White-throated, Vesper, and Swamp Sparrows—whew! It’s enough to make one take up presidential stamp collecting. But no offense to the philatelists out there, where’s the challenge in that? Stamps can’t fly away!
Scott Finley is a long-time resident of El Droado County, and an avid Birder.