Abigail's Wren
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Abigail's Wren, Troglodytes brockampii L 8-10 cm, WS 12-16 cm, Family: Troglodytidae
IUCN Conservation Status: Least concern (LC)
Description:
Tiny, round bird with short tail and long legs. Dark color overall, and well camouflaged; similar to Pacific Wren of the mainland. Dark chocolate coloring above, lighter below, with blond throat and dark barring on belly and flanks. Light eyebrow line contrasts with reds and browns of face. Tail short, stubby, and often cocked upwards. Bill long, thin, and slightly downcurved.
Voice:
Vocal, Abigail's Wrens sing and call constantly throughout the day. Song is a high pitched and extremely varied series of musical trills and long soaring notes. Song is long and complex, with phrases strung together often lasting around 12-13 seconds. Loud, the song carries far through the dense forest. Call is a sharp, explosive tink.
Range and Habitat:
Range limited to the west and north of the island, rarely found east of the mountain divide. Abigail's Wrens prefer old-growth evergreen forests, but will also be found in mixed conifer and deciduous stands, and mature deciduous forests. They require dense understory vegetation, and are most common in wet areas like the temperate rainforest with lots of moss and fallen logs.
Discussion:
Like many wrens, the Abigail's Wren is a tiny, secretive sprite of dark forests. Difficult to spot, it spends its time along the underbrush and tangles, appearing mostly to sing or defend territory. Their small size, rapid movements along logs or rocks, and affinity for the ground create a mousy appearance. A spunky bird, Abigail's Wrens will approach threats and intimidate them with persistent calling, and they are known to stand their ground against most dangers. Insectivores, Abigail's Wrens forage along the ground hopping around probing for ants, caterpillars, beetles, spiders, and millipedes.
The Abigail's Wren’s standout feature is its deceptively loud operatic song, which by length and volume ranks as the most powerful song of any bird on the island. At times, a male’s song can last over twelve seconds long, and their rich melodies, especially the high sustained notes, will carry through forests for great distances. They will often find exposed rocks, logs, or openings in the vegetation to use as a stage for singing, which is the best time to spot them before they retreat back to the comfort of the underbrush.
Mostly solitary, T. brockampii does not normally form flocks, and is mostly seen alone or in pairs. Males defend territories year-round. During breeding, males build several nests within his territory, one of which is chosen by the female to use. Nests are usually placed in hollow cavities, crevices, exposed roots, or in other ways covered by moss or vegetation, often near water. Females do all the incubation, and pairs will have around two broods a year. Eggs are cream to white with brown and pink spotting.
Originally described by Richard Reichwald, he named the wren (both scientific and common name) in honor of a close friend and famous singer on Novasola. In recent years there has been an international push to change all eponymous bird names in an attempt to remove "ownership" of species and not to honor problematic historical figures; those who wish to see this bird's common name changed prefer the names Song Wren or Northwest Wren. The Cishtaklun name for the wren is amalikunudaq, roughly meaning “little purifying song”.
A secretive yet well-known bird of Novasola’s north and western forests, the Abigail's Wren is most often recognized by its voice. Richard Reichwald saw similarities between the operatic nature of the small bird and a close personal friend, a performer in Cape George, for which they are named. Abigail's Wrens became a common sighting during the NRC’s second expedition, and one in which Reichwald always took pleasure, as more translations offer new insights.
“The terrain has changed as we travelled upslope. What was a wide country of meadows and alders and aspens has surrendered to dense forests of psuedotsuga, hemlock, and firs. Likewise has the fauna shifted. The choirs of riparian birds have silenced themselves, overtaken by the new chorus of the unknown. One song which stands alone in my mind echoes through my thoughts just as it does the woodland: a complex arrangement with a speed and intensity unparalleled. Considering the seeming prevalence of these songs I expect to be soon acquainted with their composer.” – Expedition log, June 12, 1903
“As I set back for camp after this morning’s surveys I was abruptly accosted by a small bird of great confidence, which no doubt was angered by my proximity to his roost. It was evident immediately this creature was a wren, similar in my mind to the wrens of Oregon and Vancouver, yet more striking, with intricate patterns of chocolate, rust, and cream yellow. I have no doubt, despite the sharp notes it spat at me, this is the voice of the long songs I have heard so many times in these woods.
…
No sooner had I given him space than the wren scurried back to his perch, an opening in the rhododendron with a mossy carpet, and begun again his performance. My watch ticked eleven times before his first song had finished at such a volume which forces me to reconsider just how close my other observations truly were.” – Expedition log, July 7, 1903
“The song of the Abigail's Wren is outshines and surpasses that of any other bird I have yet encountered on Novasola. The composition is one of true musicality, with elegance and grace not undone by its energy and power. Proud must be the wren of its song, as it sings only after finding for itself a stage: a sunny clearing in the underbrush or an elevated perch atop a near decayed trunk where its performance may go noticed and heard. Hopeless are those who feel not moved by the song of the wren, as Odysseus was by the sirens.
…
Yet one must not be fooled: the wren’s size and beauty are not permission of our dominance. They will defend themselves and their homes with an attitude unshackled by their smallness. Sharp are their calls and relentless are they in their arguments with intruders. I have observed Abigail's Wrens quarrelling with birds thrice their size, and on one occasion a single wren managed to ward off an intrusive, and unlucky, fox.” – Native Birds of Novasola, 1912
“Though we have many months until our next expedition, the Corps remains close and friendly. Most evenings lately we have spent congregated at the campfire sharing our findings and we have made a competition of sorts, to produce the best discoveries or most humorous names, or some such nonsense. Tonight’s criteria were of honoring friends and family. Mr. Reichwald offered a small songbird he named Abigail, after some singer or performer he is acquainted with here. I came next when I shared the flower I named for you. Not to be outdone, Mr. Jackson went next by bringing out a description of a blood-sucking leech, which he proudly named for his mother.” – NRC botanist Terrance Bonet in a letter to his wife, December 28, 1903