TEXT I

Why do birds sing so loudly in the morning in spring? It’s the ‘dawn chorus’ 

As spring begins, so does a fresh song at daybreak, unique to the season. Just before the sun rises, birds start singing their melodies, creating a chirpy symphony.

This phenomenon is known as the dawn chorus, and it’s special for a number of reasons: There are more birds singing at this time of year, and they also sing more often. This energetic burst of birdsong is often louder than usual too. The dawn chorus’ early morning explosion of sounds has even inspired multiple poems and songs.

“It's the epitome of spring,” says Jordan E. Rutter, an ornithologist at the American Bird Conservancy. After the long and cold winter, “all of a sudden you have this influx of so many beautiful birds coming back and singing.”

This harmony of birdsong at dawn happens during a fundamental time of the year. The dawn chorus is, in fact, mostly composed of birds of both genders singing to find a mate so they can breed (though males may sing more).

“There is such a large increase in quantity of song by individuals and the collective,” Rutter says. “These birds sing louder to literally be heard. They need to compete with each other as well, and the louder the better in regards to who is the most impressive mate.”

During this time, males also sing to assert their dominance and claim their territory. “Those songs are how they communicate to other males of the same species, or even just other birds and predators in general, and say, ‘This is my home,’” says Rutter.

In the United States and Canada, the dawn chorus can be heard roughly from March through May, when many bird species migrate there from their winter homes to breed. Peak dawn chorus times might depend on where you live, Rutter says. For example, April is peak for the southern U.S., but birds in Washington, D.C., will put on the best show in early May. (Alternatively, in the tropics, the dawn chorus can be heard almost any time of year, as many birds have a prolonged breeding season in those warmer climates.)

Why is it a ‘dawn’ chorus?

But why birds sing in the early morning is still “an open question,” says Mike Webster, an ornithologist at the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. “There's a lot of debate, and I don't think there's any consensus on exactly why it is that everything happens at dawn."

One hypothesis is that weather conditions at daybreak make it easier for birdsong to travel.

“In general, sound travels farther when the air is cooler and more dense. Sound also transmits more clearly (and very slightly faster) when humidity is higher so that details of the song do not degrade as much over distance,” says Heather Williams, a professor at Williams College who has studied the neuroscience of birdsong. She notes that wind may also impede sound transmission. “At dawn, the cooler air results in decreased winds at ground level, so coupled with the higher humidity, sound carries farther and more clearly, with less distortion.”

Extract from 

https://www.nationalgeographic.com/animals/article/birds-dawn-chorus (Accessed on 14 April 2025.)

Text 7A1-II

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back. 

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference. 

Robert Frost. The Road Not Taken. 1916 (adapted).  

Text 7A1-II

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back. 

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference. 

Robert Frost. The Road Not Taken. 1916 (adapted).