Among prairie wildflowers, a male Sedge Wren appears at the top of an iconic native plant, a Tall Coreopsis. He’s seven feet above the ground, and he’s singing. It’s the sound of summer and abundance.
Each phrase of his song begins with two notes, tseep, tseep, followed by a trill. The initial pair of notes is always the same, but the trill contains subtle variations.
Sedge Wren recording by Diane Porter
The rhythm sticks in the mind. I think I’d recognize that song even if I woke up to it in a different life. I'd shake my head, wondering... where have I heard that before?
Soon the bird returns to the thicket of grasses near the ground. He’s still singing, but out of sight now.
Sedge Wrens are specialists. They must have wild. They must have damp meadows and marshy fields, grasses and sedges.
Grasslands are diminishing in Iowa. No longer does prairie cover this land. Sedge Wrens and other prairie birds must feel the squeeze.
I’m glad for my wild field that has given this Sedge Wren and his family a chance at life.
To my delight, the little bird pops up again, this time on a twig closer to me. He belts out a few songs in full view. He’s tiny, smaller than a House Wren. The embodiment of energy.
This Sedge Wren had to migrate through several states to breed. He halted his journey northward here, to mate and nest in my field.
By mid-summer, he and his mate already have raised one family. The male weaves a 3-to-5 inch globe of grasses. He leaves an entrance on one side. The female lines the nest with fur or feathers. They conceal it well, and although I’ve watched for it, I’ve never been able to spot the little nest.
Now he’s singing again. It means he wants to do it all over. To send more Sedge Wrens into the future.
I do not know what is in store for the small creatures of this land. But for a while longer my idle field will luxuriate in its own existence. And welcome travelers.
Far out there, in the damp wild fields,
a Sedge Wren
trills his sweet notes, like a pro!
His rhythm sticks in my mind,
reminiscent of...another time?
Quite the Specialist, he is...
in the meadows
damp marshy...
wild with grass and sedge near the ground.
He knows just where to find these spots,
though it’s sometimes a bit of a squeeze.
Of course, he’s clever,
No need to get down on his...knees!!
Sue ;<))
I have heard this voice all my life...and now I know the singer!! thank you! xoxo