Unlimited edition. 18 x 24 inch, museum-quality poster on matte paper.

This poster was released the week of Halloween. I thought the bold oranges, peaches, and assorted blacks and greys of the varied thrush would be perfect for the holiday. As always, though, the process of isolating the “truest” colors for each bird’s Field Guide color column is educational, and, in neutral light, the colors of the varied thrush are revealed to be more subdued than I expected. The resulting column feels more like a general celebration of fall (or pumpkin pie) than an All Hallow’s Eve palette. More 😋, less 👻.

That said, many people describe the song of the varied thrush as “haunting,” “eerie,” or “otherworldly,” so it’s still an excellent Halloween week choice. To my ear, the song – which isn’t so much a song as it is a series of irregular, almost-synthesized flute sounds – calls to mind a magical mechanical toy hidden in the grass, or perhaps a fairy or elf youngling tuning one of their ethereal instruments. I don’t hear it as a lament, but many writers describe it as a distinctly melancholy sound. For some, it brings to mind Ichabod Crane’s last ride down a Sleepy Hollow lane. For me, it evokes cool, misty mornings spent outdoors (i.e., my happy place).

As a child of the Mid-Atlantic, I didn’t even know this west coast species existed until I moved to California in my 30s. Even here, I seldom see varied thrushes, and most of the sightings I do have are fleeting, a high flyover or a glimpse broken up by shrubbery. This past March, however, I disturbed a group of six varied thrushes feeding near the fork of a seasonal rill. Six!! I was delighted, and stopped to ogle them. They returned the favor (with less admiration and more apprehension), staring back at me from the Oregon oak branches they’d retreated to. After a few minutes, I continued on some twenty yards, then turned to see the birds drop back to the ground and resume foraging. It occurred to me that this thrush party was going down in a curiously appropriate spot; the species genus name, Ixoreus, translates as “mistletoe,” and the oaks there were laden with the hemiparasitic plant. (This genus name was mistakingly assigned to varied thrushes – there’s no special association between the plants and this bird– but it stuck. They are the only species in the genus today.)

Note: These archival poster prints feature rich, appealing colors. I encourage customers to take care in handling them until they are framed/protected for display; the darker colors on the matte paper can be scratched. They ship rolled, so customers need to flatten them before framing (or have their framer do so).

Charitable Sales Model: Whenever one of these poster prints is purchased, a charitable contribution equal to 10% of the print’s cost (or $3.60) is made to a nonprofit working to tackle environmental or social challenges. Read more about my charitable sales model here.