ONE of the features of August is the silence of our song birds. While some may still be heard in our gardens and countryside, many whose voices woke us from sleep during bright spring mornings might now be silent.

This lack of birdsong at this time of year is largely due to the end of their mating and breeding seasons. One of the reasons why a bird sings is to declare his presence by establishing the boundaries of his territory, perhaps a garden or part of a wood.

That will be the location of his nest and his growing brood of youngsters.

By singing at strategic positions around the limits of his chosen territory, he warns off others of the same species who might intrude upon his chosen and declared patch of land.

Another reason for singing is to attract a mate. When a male proves his worth by revealing his prowess as a songster, he will create interest among the females, one of whom will accept him as her companion for that season. Some birds mate for life but most seem to create fresh territories with new partners on an annual basis.

Powerful singing is also a means of driving away a dangerous rival who may have his eyes on both the songster’s territory and his mate, but in addition to their songs, most birds have a range of other calls upon which they can draw to ward off predators.

It is easy to distinguish such calls in a busy and populous garden that is rich with bird life – we know when a cat is prowling around our garden because the birds warn us and similarly we are alerted when buzzards are hunting overhead. And blue tits chatter at us if we sit too close to their nest boxes or feeding area.

Another purpose of birdsong or perhaps their mere single-note calls, is to identify the different species.

Even though each species can be identified by its particular call or song, the birds can produce a wide variety of different calls, some to inform others of that species to their whereabouts, but also to provide neighbouring birds with information of their presence and numbers.

For example, loud cawing quickly establishes the presence of a flock of rooks.

Most of us are familiar with the clamour of seagulls whatever their species while geese, mallards and starlings are also noisy when in groups. On the other hand, swans remain steadfastly silent for most of their time, even when in large groups.

In addition to their spring and early summer music, some birds sing during the winter, and many of them produce a range of calls which are not considered to be songs.

However, although it is usually the male bird who sings, both male and female robins sing during the winter as they claim their own winter territories. Another which may sing in winter is the mistle thrush and it is noted for singing even in storm conditions, hence its alternative name of storm cock.

Even in winter, some of our garden birds and other songsters might be tempted to break into song by the appearance of sunshine, but it might be short-lived. The darkness of winter along with grey skies, chilly weather and clouds seem to quench any desire to sing for lengthy periods although alarms and group calls may persist.

Another series of calls occurs when groups of birds are on the move in large numbers and there are times we are alerted to their presence by their calls.

Geese flying overhead are a good example, and if we live on a migratory route, particularly near the coast, we might hear a wide range of calls somewhere in the heavens without necessarily seeing the birds who make those calls.

Although we might be unable to identify those responsible, it is usually a flock of migrants passing over this country en route either their summer or winter quarters, and some will be too high to be visible to the naked eye.

It was the eerie sounds of geese gabbling to one another at night during such migrations that gave rise to the legend of Gabriel’s Hounds.

This was believed to be an invisible horde of mystical creatures that were said to herald death to the listener.

One reason for such birds calling constantly while in flight is so that they keep in touch with one another and remain close, but not too close, and a solitary bird wandering some distance from the group will be at risk from predators. It follows that the migration of birds in flocks is a skilled art and one which continues to baffle many of us. For example, how does a young swift, say, find its way to Africa having never been there?

Dark secret

I have received a query as to why much of the northern and western parts of the North York Moors were once known as Blackamoor. There is a general belief that this might be associated with the dark colour of some of the protruding rocks and cliff faces in that region, or alternatively it could be associated with the colour of the heather plants, but not their famous purple flowers.

The bulk of the North York Moors seems to have been known as Blackamoor as early the reign of Henry II (1133-89) when the Chronicle of John of Hexham stated that Rievaulx Abbey was planted “in solitudine Blacoumor”. There is a reference to the name when the Abbot of St Mary’s of York carried out an inquiry in 1305-06 when he referred to the River Dove in Blakehou. John Leland (1534-5) wrote that “Pykring goeth up to the very Browes of Blakemor”.

In the 17th century, the poet Michael Drayton (1563-1631) wrote his 30-volume epic Polyolbion. In it, he refers to Pickering and “the large spread of Blackimore”.

Some theories suggest that the name Blackamoor gave rise to others such enough for parents to climb inside and hide when things get too much during the school holiday period.

I knew I had to act when I nearly fell off the bins while trying to stamp the rubbish as Black Hambledon or perhaps Blakey, between Hutton-le-Hole and Castleton, whereas in other parts of Britain there are similar names such as the Black Mountains, Blackdown and Blackdown Hills.

The name was apparently in use during the 17th century because the Moors martyr Nicholas Postgate adopted a disguised name to prevent his capture, and he called himself Whitemoor, Whitmore or Witmoor, this being believed to be a play on the name of his birthplace in Blackamoor.

The name does seem to have fallen into disuse recently, although it does surface from time to time. Like now!