Musings on the word 'birdy' and other vocabulary

Come on, admit it, all you patch birders know exactly what I'm talking about if I say, "Nothing new today, but it felt really birdy."  It's one of those phrases that shows precisely what the patch felt like, but is very difficult to put fully into words.  

What does the term 'birdy' actually mean?  What makes one day more birdy than another? 

It could be an increase in birdsong. It might be a greater flitting, seen in trees and bushes out of the corner of our eyes, or bigger numbers of birds flying overhead.  Or perhaps it's simply down to a change in the weather.  It can feel birdy at any time of the year, but I've noticed the term used far more during Spring and Autumn than at any other time. It's just a feeling I guess.  But, we all know there are also times when it should be birdy and it's very much not!  Those disappointing days when we wake early and grab our optics with expectation, then go home later, wondering where all the birds have disappeared to - a regular occurrence here in Warwick.

It's always a birdy day on Bardsey Island

As with any hobby, birding has developed its own vocabulary; some words and phrases used universally and understood by all, with some sticking to certain locations (it took me a while to be able to understand and respond to "Sin owt?" at Spurn.)

One of the most used and perhaps most amusing, to the immature among us, is the word jizz (or giss, if we want a slightly less questionable spelling).  Wikipedia describes it as the overall impression or appearance of a bird garnered from such features as shape, posture, flying style or other habitual movements, size and colouration combined with voice, habitat and location. It was actually used first in ornithology way back in 1921, by an Irish man by the name of T.A. Coward (according to a paper written by Jeremy and Julian Greenwood - yep, there's actually a paper on the word jizz!)  Mr Coward explained it perfectly:

‘If we are walking on the road and see, far ahead, someone whom we recognise although we can neither distinguish features nor particular clothes, we may be certain that we are not mistaken; there is something in the carriage, the walk, the general appearance which is familiar; it is, in fact, that individual’s jizz.'

Photo - Bridgeman Images

It's true, the regular birder can often identify a bird - even in silhouette, from some distance and partially obscured by branches - just by the way it is moving and with knowledge of the regular behaviour of certain breeds.  Green finches sit proudly at the tops of trees, siskins hang from the ends of branches, flycatchers dart out and back to their perches - they all have their individualities that can be learned and used, although not guaranteed, to narrow down what we are seeing.

The behaviour of birds brings out a whole plethora of vocabulary - I have no idea if there's a difference between 'flighty' or 'mobile', 'over' or 'passing through'. I've never heard the words 'elusive' or 'confiding' used more than in birdwatching.  Then there's the labels for the birds themselves.  We lazily shorten their names from meadow pipit to mipit, sparrowhawk to sprawk. Blackwit, barwit and some we even reduce to acronyms like GBBG, LSW and GWE.  We call birds plastic if they're not wild enough, migrant if they're moving and vagrant if they're lost.  

And then there's a list of other birding terms...  

We twitch a rare bird (especially if it's mega).  We dip if we can't find it.  We string if we pretend we did. Apparently, if we send a twitcher the wrong way on purpose, we're gripping them off.  We curse our bogey birds, we curse the togs that get too close to a bird and we celebrate when we tick a bird.

Lastly, there's that all important Boooom! This one depends on how special the bird seen is.  The number of Os, exclamation marks and whether the word is in bold or even capitals is the measure on this one.  

I'm sure there's many many more words and phrases I've still to learn, but now I'm going to dive into my copy of Mrs Moreau's Warbler, to read more about from where our lovely birds got their names.

Happy birding!

Lizzy

The origin of the birdwatching term ‘jizz’ | British Birds

Mrs Moreau's Warbler by Stephen Moss | Natural History Books | Faber