Great Tit

Among seasoned bird-listeners there is a rule of thumb: if you can’t tell what it is, it’s probably a great tit.

This is not to say that the great tit is always a mystery. It fact it has a wonderfully clear and teachable song, that actually sounds like ‘teacher teacher’.

This signature mechanical rhythm is often likened to a squeaky bicycle pump.

But they do like to mess about with it. In the following example it’s still got the mechanical quality, but the emphasis is different.

And in this one there’s an extra note, creating a bouncier rhythm.

As well as their array of bicycle pumps, great tits can make many other noises, including convincing impersonations of other species.

It’s all very confusing to the human ear, and one credible explanation for their extensive repertoire is that it’s designed to be confusing - to other great tits.

The idea goes: a vocally versatile great tit can make their neighbourhood sound fit to burst with different, territorial birds,. That’s seriously off-putting to any prospecting great tits who might try their luck there.

This notion was first put forward by ornithologist John Krebs in 1977. Studying the behaviour of great tits in woodland near Oxford, he found that the birds in places with fewer territories had a more varied repertoire of song. To help explain why this might be, he drew on the plot of a story called Beau Geste.

First published as a novel in 1924 and filmed several times since, Beau Geste is the tale of three brothers who find themselves defending a desert fort. Greatly outnumbered by the advancing enemy, they prop up the bodies of their dead comrades along the fortifications, to make it appear the place is better defended than it really is.

This is perhaps more familiar to many of us now as a feature of the film Home Alone. Macauley Culkin’s character convinces would-be burglars that his house is not, in fact, occupied by a single eight-year-old child.

Since first applied to great tits, the ‘Beau Geste hypothesis’ has been used to help explore patterns of song behaviour in other species of bird, and insects too.

Deceptive noise-making aside, great tits make their regular see-saw song in gardens, parks, woodland and pretty much any other place that has a few deciduous trees. They are often noticeable by early January, and keep their bicycles pumping through the spring.

The singer will typically be mid-way up a tree, showing its lemon-yellow flanks, black bib and thick black stripe running down to the belly.

(I wonder: how far might people go for a glimpse of this bird, if it wasn't one of our commonest neighbours?)

When not in song, great tits are often to be found foraging lower to the ground, roving along hedgerows, flitting across pathways - hanging off peanut feeders, of course - and feeding among fallen leaves.

“Help! Help!” [maracas]

With another comparison in your ear, you can sometimes pick out the presence of feeding great tits before you see them, via their distinctive alarm call.

It can sound very like the ‘chink! chink!’ of a chaffinch - but they like to follow that up with a rough chatter.

With a bit of imagination, you may hear them saying ‘help! help!’, then furiously shake a pair of tiny maracas.

Great Tits are found in most of Europe and through a wide swathe of central Asia. For more on their ecology in Britain, see the BTO website.