The Black-capped Chickadee is a bird that most birders or outdoor enthusiasts in the northern half of North America are familiar with, whether they know it or not. The Black-capped Chickadee, and all chickadees for that matter, are part of onomatopoeic birds whose name is derived from their call. The ’chick-a-dee-dee-dee’ can be heard all over North America year-round wherever there are some clusters of trees around.
Chickadees in North America are part of the Paridae which consists of over 50+ species worldwide. North American Chicakdees are in the genus Poecile. Outside of North America members of the Paridae family are called tits. While many species have different English names whether you are in the Old World or the New World, the reasoning for the tits vs chickadee name difference in North America is iffy at best. John James Audubon originally called them titmice when he was cataloging birds in the 19th century, although soon after the onomatopeic name took hold replacing titmouse as the standard name for these birds. However, the cousins of the chickadee and those in the genus Baeolophus are called titmice in North America – including the Tufted Titmouse. The distinction in the genera does make it easier to understand in North America but it is interesting that one genus has this change and the others in North America do not.
In the majority of North America the distinction of whether you live in an area where Black-capped Chickadees or Carolina Chickadees are the established species is pretty well defined. However, there is a line that extends from southeast Kansas to northern New Jersey where these two species have an overlapping range. This leads to a fairly complicated ID process that many just leave the possible doubt to a Black-capped/Carolina Chickadee ID since they are that similar in appearance – more on that later. Having lived in both Jersey and Kansas, it is pretty wild to spend a day birding and cross this ‘boundary’ and eBird goes from recommending one species to the other as the most likely. While I am not aware why this boundary became so ‘defined’, it is becoming messier year by year as Carolina Chickadees are moving more northward. In these contact areas, up to 2/3 of all the chickadees could be hybrids. Even David Sibley says that most of the chickadees in these areas are simply not identifiable.
If you are in Montana or eastern Virginia, it is pretty straightforward whether the chickadee you are looking at is a Black-capped or a Carolina Chickadee. Both species have black feathers stemming from their beak down their throats and over the top of their heads covering their eyes. A well-defined white cheek fills out the rest of their head. Their wings both have a coloring of black and white and their backs are a dark green. Inside these attributes, the difference between the Black-capped and Carolina Chickadee is very minute. From Nicholas Lund in for Audubon, “Black-caps are about a half inch larger, have more white on the nape and in the wings.” However, since more likely than not you are going to encounter these chickadees in tree tops or quickly dashing from one tree to another it is incredibly difficult to get a good reading based on appearance. Even in Montana, I have a tough time even getting the Black-capped Chickadees here to slow down enough to get a good look at them, and that’s with me knowing their species. In these contact zones, if you are deadset on attempting to get a correct ID, it is best to leave the appearance to the side and focus on their song. The song of the Carolina Chickadee is (typically) a four-part, evenly-spaced set of high-pitched notes: “One Two Three Four.” The Black-capped song, on the other hand, is typically two notes: “One Two.” Again with the extremely large hybrid overlap and the ability for these hybrids to be Black-capped dominant or Carolina dominant, you might still want to call it a loss.
While it is certainly a pain to get a good look at a Black-capped Chickadee when they are consistently hopping from one tree to another, it does account for quite a show. I have to step back to genuinely see if this is a singular bird or numerous chickadees who are moving so quickly that it does confuse you. More often than not in my experience, chickadees are together in small groups and even if you do lose track of one or all of them, their consistent ‘dee-dee’s will put you back on the scent pretty quickly.
Since Black-capped Chickadees do not migrate and are not exactly ‘exotic’ in their range, I think that they do not get the recognition they deserve. In the dead of winter when almost every other bird has either migrated south for a while or is far and few between, these chickadees are out there thriving and still putting on a show. When your morning checklists go from 20+ species in the fall to maybe ~5 during the winter, Black-capped Chickadees are the unsung heroes for the season. While we may go out and search for a new life bird, migrants, or a rare bird, there is something to be said about a reliable bird that you know you can find and spend some time with. There’s comfort in having something consistent in your life, especially when it is also extremely entertaining and beautiful.
Aside from their reliability, there is something great about having a species that does not migrate like the Black-capped Chickadee in your local area. Often birds that may be rarer in the range for winter will hang out in areas where these chickadees are. They trust the locals to know where the sunshine and food are in the winter canopy. I saw this personally when I was looking for the Townsend’s Warbler in Ocean County, NJ in December 2023. The warbler was in a pine tree with a couple of chickadees while they were doing their thing (these were actually Carolina Chickadees in this situation but the point still stands). They are quick to let you know when a predator or larger birds come into the area as their calls become louder and more frequent, setting off an alarm for the others around.
As I mentioned before, having something reliable to look for whether it is at sunrise or smack dab in the middle of the day does bring some comfort. If I know that I won’t be able to get out at sunrise, knowing that the park that is a 5-minute walk from my apartment will have something there does bring me joy. Even at work, I can step outside my building, and ~50% of the time there will be a couple of Black-capped Chickadees playing around for my few minutes there. While they might not be rare, bright yellow or blue, I know that no matter if I am deep in the woods, at a local park, or watching a feeder, I know that I can count on a ‘dee-dee’.
