Canyon Wrens the Non-City City Bird

If I did not know any better I would think that these highly active and lovely little birds should be called “slanted red-tiled roof hopping probers” or "water tank perching melodiously cascading whistlers.” You see, year round in the town of Churintzio in the Central Highlands of the Mexican state of Michoacan where I live they can be definitely heard and quite frequently seen adroitly searching for insects and harmoniously belting out their songs on the rooftops of the homes there. Yet, they are not your typical “city birds” like the house sparrows, great-tailed grackles, and barn swallows that also inhabit Churintzio. No, these fascinating western North American birds that range all the way from southern British Columbia down through the pacific and mountain states of the U.S. as far east as Oklahoma and central Texas and then into the majority of the Mexican interior are saltapared barranqueros (literally “jumping wall canyon dwellers”) or canyon wrens.

Approximately 5.5" long and weighing around .5 of an ounce these small to medium-sized wrens are distinctive in appearance. Canyon wrens have a rusty brown back, wings, and belly, a pure white throat and bib, a dark brown crown and side of face, and a long bright rufous tail that is barred black; they have fine white spots on their back, nape, crown, and belly. Their head has a flattened appearance while their long thin black bill curves slightly downward. Unlike many other species of wrens like the spotted wren which also occurs in Churintzio, they have no eyeline.

Behaviorally, canyon wrens are unmistakable. Similar to lizards, due to their low center of gravity, big feet, and sharp claws these ground foragers maneuver easily as they scurry vertically, horizontally, and diagonally over and about roofs, walls, and rocks. As a result of anatomical modifications of their vertebral columns and somewhat flattened heads they are capable of probing with their long decurved bills into narrow crevices without bumping their heads in pursuit of their only food sources, spiders and insects. Interestingly, although they often frequent areas close to water like the small ravine and the pond that I often see them at, they are not known to drink any water as they derive their fluids from the insects that they consume.

Yet what most differentiates the canyon wren from other types of wrens is its enchantingly beautiful and exceedingly memorable song. Their song or call is a descending cascade of melodic rich loud whistles that decrease in frequency and pitch, often ending with one or more beguiling buzzy mews. While it sometimes takes me numerous “soundings” to identify certain species of birds by their vocalizations it only required one “take” for me to permanently be able to recognize the canyon wren by its song. It is the male that does the vast majority of the singing as females rarely sing and usually only in response to the males call.

In Churintzio, in addition to the roofs and walls of buildings, year round, as these monogamous birds that prefer semi-arid environments do not migrate other than sometimes for altitudinal adjustments based on changes in climate, I have seen them in all of their typical habitats and terrains: canyons; cliffs; boulder piles; and rocky outcrops. Only once in a while do I see them in bushes, shrubs, dense undergrowth, trees, or on posts or nopal cactus. However, once I am on the nearby trails that are bordered by fields of mostly corn, birdseed, or agave, I most frequently see them singly or in pairs on or in fences/walls that are made from interlaced large rocks. Consequently, with very few exceptions, wherever I am apt to see slithering insect eating lizards, I am also apt to see nimble canyon wrens in pursuit of their prey.

To the great pleasure of my wife, Maria, and myself , very often they visit our close to downtown humble mostly adobe abode with its slanted red-tiled roof and terrace that has a 1100 liter water tank on top of it. Recently, a canyon wren that was perched on our fruit bearing pomegranate tree in the courtyard was nasally and persistently calling out (as their call is strikingly different than their evocative song) "jeet jeet jeet-jeet jeet jeet-jeet jeet jeet" to our four chirp-chirp-chirping parakeets, four twit-twit-twitting peach-faced lovebirds, echo-echo-echoing singing male Northern cardinal, and scream-scream-screaming half-moon conure that were hidden from its view a few yards away inside of the house. If it were not dark outside as I am writing this article perhaps through the window that is three feet away from me I would be able to see one or more searching and probing for insects on the wall by our garden. Better yet, as has happened in the past, maybe I would close up and personal see one adeptly picking insects off of the window screen.

For non-city birds these “jumping wall canyon dwellers“ audibly and visually make many conspicuous “city” visits. However, wherever I see them, they are indeed a year round sensory delight!