I Brought You Home a Bird Song From France's Loire Valley

A tale of two robins, one French, one American. And why do we become bird appreciators as we age?

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“Love Birds in Nice,” a rare candid photo.

Dear Beautiful Friends,

Sometimes, so much has happened and is about to happen, that a kind of mute-ness takes over. Seventeen days in France threw my senses into orbit, and I’m left with a stunned sensation of Where to begin?

Bird song, I say. Bird song! (And voting. I voted.)

This crisp, thrilly tune is the European robin saying Bonjour, which I recorded from Chinon, France, in the Loire Valley.

Listen here:

Or try listening here.

My Bird ID app (Merlin) told me this was a European robin. I could listen to this all day long*.

*I entered “bird songs to listen to all day long” into Google, and this YouTube audio popped up: eight hours of birds singing their hearts out in a forest. It’s delightful, I’m playing it right now. Maybe you could use this.

The European robin. Photo by Jan Meeus on Unsplash

“Our robins don’t sound like this,” I said to Steve. “Do they?”

“You don’t recognize them because they’re chirping in French.”

“Or do we listen differently in new places?”

We were on our way to breakfast. Before I could ask, “Are the American robins and European ones that different?,” I had a croissant in my mouth.

French will not approve, but THIS is my fave food item in France.

And the answer to that question is a resounding Oui. The two robins are vastly different.

Other than the flash of orange on their chests, these birds are from entirely different bird families. Do they look similar to you?

Euro Robin, left; A-Rob, right.

• The European robin is the O.G. of robins

• The North American bird was given its name by European settlers, who must have been homesick, because they spotted a songbird with a similar flash of red-breastedness, and named it “robin.” Not even close.

• American robins are thrushes; Euro robins are flycatchers.

Have you ever noticed that birders are Of a Certain Age?

One of the unexpected pleasures of aging, for me and many of my friends, seems to be falling head-first in love with birds. Once, I’d take long walks with friends, our heads slightly bowed, focused on the path ahead, each of us taking turns pontificating on particular desires, disappointments, careers, romantic crushes, relationship troubles, child-raising philosophies.

And slowly, over time, we started looking up, pointing out cherry blossoms and changing leaves, stopping in the arboretum to smell the rain fresh on the composting leaves, and then, one day, we actually stopped to listen to the birds.

(Is this nothing but a metaphor to the maturing spirit, going from inward gazing to outward curiosity?)

AND THEN WE WANTED TO KNOW WHAT KIND OF BIRDS WERE MAKING THAT SOUND.

And then we went on some local Audobon walks!

When I was, say, 25, I would never have asked a friend, “What kind of bird do you think that is?” In those days, the question was more like, “Want another drink?” Also, I was living among the sky-scraper ranges of New York City—and the pigeons—which can make you forget the moon rises and sets, forget about bird types.

Here’s my theory: we need the birds and their songs as we get older.

We need to hear these persistent, little creatures remind us that life and beauty are ticking on no matter what dark turbulence disturbs our minds and spirits. After the September 11 attacks, I acquired this newfound love of babies, dogs, and trees, because every time my eyes fell on a passing baby or toddler, someone walking a dog, or the trees outside my bedroom window, all I could think of was, “You have no idea what just happened,” and I found comfort in that, like a reminder of the neutral, impersonal nature of life. I wanted to INHALE babies, dogs, and trees.

Songbirds are like our cheerleaders, telling us to keep going, keep going—just the way they do, day in and day out.

This has been my wall calendar for the past 10 or 15 years, I’ve lost count.

Check out the bird bang-for-your-buck you get each month. I’ve been able to identify birds out in the (suburban) wild, because I’ve seen them here:

A few more resources:

• Bird ID - How to Learn Bird Songs and Calls

• Eight Hours of Birds Singing in the Forest

• Learn about birds in your region

• Learn 30 Common Backyard Bird Songs and Calls (Western US)

Tweet, tweet, I love you. 🦜 🦉 🦩 🦆

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