It remains to compare the overhead migrant calls with the calls made on the ground. My meagre calls from bicknelli overhead at Mont Saint-Pierre are the proper shape for their two subtypes 1d and 2d as recorded on the ground.

Lots of gray. The two forms have in different years nested in the same tree in the San Gabriel Mountains but have mostly been separated by the preference of virginiae for more brushy, east-slope habitat.

Chip, song of chips, no chest spot, dark underparts [in which characteristics and nest and eggs it resembles Albert's Towhee, Pipilo aberti].

Six non-interbreeding, overlapping species with distinctive calls fide Jeff Groth. Perhaps we could distinguish small, medium, and large (stricklandi) in the field?

The rules of performance are that never shall a song be sung twice in succession and that only the shortest song may be aborted so as to lose its last phrase.

Aside from doubling, the repertoire and individual songs are indistinguishable to my eye. These two may well be brother and sister.

I cannot assign remaining songs nor can I tell which forms of A and B are paired with the same singer because the criterion of succession is disabled by interruptions and trucks.

If you are in the field and you hear the whole repertoire of a Gray-cheeked Thrush (that might be included in the first three or four songs), you have a 100% chance of correctly distinguishing bicknelli from aliciae cum minimus by the pitch and inflection of the terminal part IV.

THE WONDERFUL AFFAIR: SMALL WINDOWS WITH BIG IDEAS germinated from "The Gray-Cheeked Thrush, Catharus Minimus, and its New England Subspecies, Bicknell's Thrush, Catharus Minimus Bicknelli," but that's not that important. What is important is that we try to look out of small windows with big ideas. For instance, I like birds, but I don't want to touch one. I like windows, but I don't want to fall or be tossed from one; and yet, I adore the word defenestration.