I was on the driveway walking back from the mailbox when, off in the distance, I heard a familiar birdsong. I stopped in my tracks and realized that it was a robin. The day was April 1. I had waited for that moment since the hot afternoon of Aug. 20, which was the last time I heard a robin singing. So I listened carefully and took in each phrase of the song with utter appreciation. 

Before me was the neighborhood with its towering oaks, scattered homes and melancholy sky. The sun was setting. I could see it sinking behind the distant line of trees, trembling like a mirage and fluctuating in vapor. It slowly rolled beneath the distant horizon, and the sky turned to various shades of crimson beneath ominous purple clouds that faded in the dusk. I stood there for a long time until another robin answered the first. And with that, the season of song had begun.

American robins have always been known for their early morning and late evening caroling. Few sounds are as rich, clear and beautiful as the song of the robin. He begins before the sun crests the horizon and doesn’t stop until it sets. He will continue singing on into the deep dusk.

It has been this way throughout the ages, for eons, and was as sure as the sun rising. Yet, here we are, experiencing some really big changes, in the modern day, at a place in time, where man, having altered his environment, stands at the edge, looks at the future he has created, and remains in absolute disbelief. While climate change comes to mind, naturalists and birders are intrigued by the little things that indicate the larger trends.

One in particular is the growing trend of robins singing at night. Night singing is expected for some species, such as mockingbirds and ovenbirds. Mockingbirds sing incessantly, and can often be heard breaking into song late at night; oven birds will sometimes fly above their territories and burst into night song. Robins have never been nocturnal singers — until now.

For many years, ornithologists have been receiving a steady increase of reports regarding nocturnal bird song. These cases, all in urban settings, were initially thought to be a result of light pollution. Researchers were certain, almost taking it for granted, that the birds were stimulated by the intense light from buildings and street lamps.

Recently, however, better studies prove that light pollution is not the only factor. Instead, it turns out that these birds are singing at night because they can’t compete against city noise. Their songs are not being heard, and their energy is wasted.

While I stood out on my driveway that evening listening, I couldn’t help but think of these findings regarding nocturnal robins and marvel at their adaptive nature. I thought about the long and perilous journey from Central America, where many robins spend the winter. They endured storms, skyscrapers and cell towers, and when they finally rested, they had cats and hawks to avoid. Now here, they will return to the lawns but only to contend with the onslaught of pesticides. Yet they will endure. The American robin is a hardy bird and a favorite of almost everyone.

Robert Tougias is a Colchester birding author. You can reach him at rtougias@snet.net.