On this sunny, mild afternoon, a tufted titmouse settled on a limb in one of our magnolias. Over the next half hour, he delivered a loud, ringing call every five seconds; I know this because his perch was no more than 10 yards from my deck chair.
About half way through his soliloquy, the distant call of another titmouse returned his summons but lasted only a few minutes. Nevertheless, the suitor persisted, giving up only after a Carolina wren offered its own, more melodious (but equally loud) call from our back fence line. Though he temporarily quit and flew off, the determined titmouse soon resumed his call from our neighbor's yard.
Of course, like all songbirds, the titmouse is responding to the lengthening daylight and to hormones coursing through his body. He may or may not enjoy delivering the monotonous call but is surely unaware of its significance. It is purely instinctual behavior, a ritual of spring; when a potential mate eventually turns up, other rituals will follow.
