For many of us, winter seems like the perfect season to hole up and hide, riding it out until warmth and light return. For the birders among us, this may still hold true! But we also know that this is the prime season that can redefine the birdwatching and photography experience.
Winter is upon us once more: the leaves are falling, colors fading, daylight receding, and soon, for many, snow will arrive. But rather than revealing a landscape emptied out and covered over, these changes bring forth a different cast of avian characters and behaviors that often go unnoticed in warmer months.
One of the most striking changes is the soundscape: the exuberant songs of spring and summer are distant memories as birds conserve energy. Every song and sustained note carries a cost, a demand on fuel that birds simply cannot spare in cold weather. This is why communication shifts to brief, efficient calls during winter (and why, on unusually warm and sunny days, springtime songs may briefly return).
Chickadees give steady contact notes to keep flocks together; the sharp alarm calls of jays become more audible in crisp, cold air; rhythmic chips from sparrows keep foraging groups close. It may feel as if the world has grown quieter, but in fact it is more focused, and every call you do hear is loaded with meaning.
Bare branches of winter woodlands are an unexpected gift for birdwatchers. Species like wrens and thrushes, which slink unseen through spring foliage, are far easier to spot, while treecreepers spiral up trunks and nuthatches navigate bark with acrobatic ease in plain view. Dark, darting silhouettes of woodpeckers flit between exposed boughs, their hammering for desperately needed nutrients in the bark echoing through forests unabsorbed by plump leaves. Mixed species foraging flocks dash from glade to glade in bursts of coordinated movement, each species exploiting slightly different niches. These moments are ready and waiting for us all just outside and transformative to a day that would otherwise feel cold and uninviting.
Irruptive species add another layer of unpredictability to many a winter. Waxwings, redpolls, or crossbills may suddenly appear in regions where they’ve been absent for years, driven by shifting food availability further north. These unexpected winter visitors are a thrill for photographers, bringing sudden splashes of color to otherwise monochrome scenes.
Snow is not everyone’s favorite, causing disruptions to daily life, electricity, and water. Yet there’s no denying the way it transforms visual opportunities for photographers. Its reflective surface creates natural fill light, ideal for capturing plumage details. Dark birds such as ravens, magpies, and dippers stand out as graphic elements against white backgrounds, while soft flakes add texture and atmosphere. Backlit snowfall can create halos around perched birds, and frost-covered branches offer natural framing. Winter rewards minimalism: the fewer elements in the frame, the more a bird’s posture, behavior, and expression — in birding circles, its “jizz” — can shine.
Behaviorally, winter birds are more approachable, as food scarcity makes them less wary while they focus on feeding opportunities. Ground-feeding flocks of buntings, sparrows, or finches will gather along field edges, while waterfowl often concentrate in areas where rivers or lakes remain unfrozen. Even raptors behave differently—rough-legged hawks hover over snowy fields, and kestrels perch low, scanning for small mammals against the pale ground.
For those who take the time to look and listen, winter offers an experience that other seasons lack. The simplified landscape pares the palette back to bare essentials, allowing each sound, movement, and silhouette to stand out. Jack London famously described it as a ghostly silence, yet if you pay attention, there is still an exuberance of life even before the great spring murmur of awakening.
