I’m starting to suspect that my new bird book was ghost-written by Monty Python. I simply can’t read the author’s description of the Painted Bunting’s various calls without hearing the droll delivery of John Cleese in my mind:
- tida day-da tida day teetayta tita
- witee wi witato
- wee sittee, wippity, pickity, snickity
See what I mean? I’ve got a good imagination, but come on!I’m not going to argue with classics such as chick-a-dee-dee-dee, bob white, and caw, but wippity, pickity, snickity? Maybe there is fine print somewhere explaining that this is how a Painted Bunting sounds . . . after a hit of peyote.
My theory is that when describing bird calls, a certain amount of Jungian projection comes into play. Call it the aural equivalent of a Rorschach inkblot test, if you will. My parents, for example, have a bird book which I’m convinced was written by a lush. This fellow uses such phrases as, drink three beers, dry martini dry, and chug, chug, chug, to describe the calls he hears. He probably uses the term “bird watching” as code for “hitting up the best happy hours.”
All snickityness aside, putting a rhythmic phrase to a melody does make it easier to remember. It’s a trick song writers use when composing melodies that don’t yet have lyrics. The Beatles’, “Yesterday,” was actually called “Scrambled Eggs” until McCarthy came up with words for that classic tune.
I am slowly learning all the classic tunes of my backyard’s frequent fliers lately, since Texas is warm enough for me to set up my office outside. Not only does it quench my tremendous need for nature contact, but watching birds gives my eyes a break from staring at the monitor.
Speaking of staring at the monitor, I’ve got a new writing gig with PlanetEye Traveler Magazine. I’m writing about the Dallas/Fort Worth area of Texas now. The tone of the magazine is more straight-faced than I can be on this blog, but I am having fun. You can check out my stuff by going here. If you like something, feel free to “like” it on Facebook, or leave a comment. Feel free to “friend” me on FB, too, if you’d like, I’m Tui Cameron.
In the interest of full disclosure, I should admit that I’ve never heard a Painted Bunting in real life, so perhaps wippity, pickity, snickity, is apt. Personally, though, I’m still leaning towards the Monty Python theory.
Tui Snider is an author, speaker, and photographer who specializes in North Texas travel, cemetery symbols, and haunted lore. As she puts it, “I used to write fiction – but then, I moved to Texas!”
Snider’s best-selling books include Paranormal Texas , Understanding Cemetery Symbols, and 100 Things to Do in Dallas - Fort Worth Before You Die.
Snider has several more books in progress, and enjoys connecting with writers and readers all over the globe through social media, her newsletter and her website: TuiSnider.com.
I did quite a bit of bird-watching years back and got a book and it was nice to actually put a name to several of the birds that frequent this area. My favorite is the Rufous-sided Towhee. I just love that name for some reason and it’s a cute little bird, too. I never did get good at recognizing the calls and tweets, though. I knew the pheasant, the quail and the peacocks, and, of course, the crow! Everyone knows the crow, although I swear some of ours actually speak words. I’m finally getting into it again and can’t wait to get my DSLR for taking pics. My camera is really great, but, because it doesn’t have a manual focus, I can’t always get the feather detail I want. I will look you up on Facebook. I will have to try hard to listen for wippity,pickety, snickity. Not sure if we have painted buntings in this area, though. Better go get my book out.
I love Rufus-sided Towhee’s, too, Sheila! All I know is that the “rufus” part refers to their rusty color. I’ve no idea what “towhee” means. I used to have one that would perch outside my kitchen window and peek at me. I called him Rufus, surprisingly enough, and he would wait there because he knew I liked to throw scraps out the window for the chickens. I learned his little chirps pretty well, but I’ve no idea how to describe them, maybe: screeeee???
I know what you mean about crows! They make some odd sounds. They remind me of a human baby sometimes, and at other times, they kinda sound like castanets. I look forward to your bird pics! :) ~Tui
He probably uses the term “bird watching” as code for “hitting up the best happy hours.”
All the best happy hours involve bird watching. Nudge nudge, wink wink.
Whatever could you possibly mean by that, woofmutt? My delicate sensibilities have been infringed upon. I may need smelling salts!
Thanks, Prof J! In any event, I’m getting lots of mileage off that bird book. The Peyote/Python effect is even better when you read the entries aloud. I’m thinking the next dinner party we have, we’ll play name that bird call. I’m sure it’ll be even funnier after a glass or two of merlot! :)
I’m thinking you’re right. It’s either Monty Python or the peyote.