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On nearly every one of my daily walks in the neighborhood in January, a black-capped chickadee calls its name. It doesn’t matter if it’s snowing, cold, raining, gloomy or sunny, and if no other birds are active, the chickadee announces its presence, “Chick-a-dee-dee-dee.”

On a few of those days, even though it’s not yet nesting time, I’ve heard it give its three-syllable courtship song, “Hey sweetie.” Some only hear two syllables, one high and one lower. What’s cheerful about the song is that the interval between the two notes is a happy one. Musicians will recognize it as a major third, as opposed to a minor third that might invoke sadness.

As one of my favorite nature authors Bernd Heinrich wrote in “Winter World”: Day in, day out, they are active no matter the cold weather.

We’re lucky chickadees not only spend the entire year with us, but also can easily be seen in the middle of winter. Chickadees are adapted to our northern climates in many ways. Chickadees, like other bird species, have a much higher metabolism than humans.

Their body temperature is typically 105 degrees Fahrenheit. Chickadees can maintain a body temperature of roughly 100 degrees, even if it’s zero degrees outdoors. The chickadee maintains that temperature even in winter because it grows extra feathers beginning in fall that insulate its body. The oil on its feathers also serves as waterproofing. You might say the chickadee wears a waterproof coat in winter like we do.

Chickadees, like other birds that survive Illinois winters, fluff out their feathers creating air pockets for more insulation. If you see a “fat” chickadee in winter, it’s not because it had a lot to eat, but because it’s fluffing its feathers to stay warm.

About a month ago, we experienced some extremely cold days in northern Illinois, and those can be perilous for chickadees and other year-round birds. The chickadee has another adaptation for extremely cold weather. It drops its body temperature by 20 degrees at night, and goes into what’s called torpor. As dawn approaches, the chickadee begins to shiver, which warms it back to its normal body temperature. 

Hopefully in those instances, chickadees will have stored some fat from eating all day, and that’s why it remains active in winter. It has to find food. It’s such a tiny bird, weighing only about 10 grams (or three-tenths of an ounce), but it’s also smart.

Chickadees hide food in fall for later retrieval in winter. They have good memories, and I’ve seen them pecking away at tree bark in winter to produce a seed from their hidden pantry. Chickadees can also find hidden food in winter; for example, spider eggs and insect pupae hidden in the ground or underneath bark.

Watching a chickadee digging into tree bark with its beak to secure a meal in winter amazes me, and it also reminds me that insects are not gone in winter, just dormant, and the chickadee helps keep the numbers in check. They might even find some caterpillars frozen on trees, their adaptation to survive the winter. That is, if a bird doesn’t find them.

We do feed chickadees year-round, just because they are so fun to watch. But in winter, it’s nice to see one little black-and-white bird at a time grabbing a sun flower seed, then taking it to a branch on a tree and pounding at it to get the nutritious meat inside.

They can be picky eaters, though. We have a feeder with shelled peanuts that are easy to retrieve and swallow whole. One morning, I watched a chickadee take several peanut morsels, tossing them to the ground until it found one to its liking and flew off.

Some bird species including chickadees, test their food by weight. If it’s too light, it won’t provide the nutrition they need, so they’ll toss it out and search for a heavier one. The lightweight peanut pieces tossed to the ground by chickadees don’t go to waste. Birds that spend winter here, including dark-eyed juncos and American tree sparrows, feed on the ground and discover what the chickadee left behind.

The chickadee is a welcome sight in winter and come February, it will be singing more as it gets closer to nesting season.

Sheryl DeVore has worked as a full-time and freelance reporter, editor and photographer for the baiduhai and its subsidiaries. She’s the author of several books on nature and the environment. Send story ideas and thoughts to [email protected]