PAT NEAL: Answering the call of the Swainson’s thrush

Published 1:30 am Wednesday, June 3, 2026

THIS MUST BE my favorite time of year. We’ve emerged from hibernation and all danger of frost has passed.

The birds have returned from the distant south to our forests to nest. The ones that survived the migration.

There is the cooing of the band-tailed pigeon and the singular whistle of the Swainson’s thrush.

This is a drab little bird, somewhat smaller than a robin, but they are a favorite of mine for several reasons.

They whistle. You can whistle back.

Not many birds are as willing to carry on a conversation with people.

Once you have developed a dialogue with these shy little birds, it is difficult to stop.

On a personal note, if you find yourself excessively whistling to the Swainson’s thrush for days or weeks on end, it might be an indication you need to move on with your life, but I don’t judge.

While the Swainson’s thrush is not a spectacular, ornate species that would be likely to grab one’s attention, its plaintive whistle sends a seasonal message to anyone willing to listen.

This unremarkable little bird represents what is known as a phenological indicator that announces the first occurrence of an important event in the seasonal cycle of life in the rainforest.

The Native Americans called the Swainson’s thrush, “The Salmonberry Bird,” because it was a widespread belief that the call of the bird made the salmon berries ripen.

In fact, the call of the Swainson’s thrush was translated to mean, “ripen.”

Perhaps it is just a coincidence that the seasonal appearance of the thrush occurs with the ripening of the salmon berries, but these berries are also an important indicator of another migration.

The appearance of the salmonberry blossoms in the spring signal the migration of the spring chinook up our rivers.

These are the first salmon that head upstream in April and do not spawn until August.

Their bodies carry a rich supply of fish oil that allows them to spend months in their natal streams without eating.

This coincidence of bird, berries and fish is an important connection we start investigating every year about this time.

As the salmonberries ripen, they start out looking like miniature globs of salmon eggs that are pale orange, like the meat of the humpy or pink salmon.

Later in the season, the berries turn crimson like the flesh of the sockeye or king salmon, getting sweeter with each passing day.

Or not. The flavor of the salmon berry can vary with each berry.

Some are tart. Others are not, so you have to eat a lot of them to get a flavor that is just right.

That’s OK. You are not likely to founder on salmonberries.

They are rich in vitamin C and antioxidants.

Getting your fill of salmon berries should not be a problem this year. Which is good news since ancient legends tell us salmonberries can predict the runs of salmon up our rivers.

We can only hope the salmon run as thick as the salmonberries.

Then it will be time for my favorite recipe, salmon stuffed with salmonberries.

What we lack in modern utensils, we make up for with fresh ingredients.

We take a basket of salmonberries, stuff them into the belly of a salmon and place the salmon on a flat rock over a bed of alder coals.

We wait until the fat runs into the fire. Turn the fish, and salt and pepper to taste.

Serve on an alder plank.

While answering the call of the Swainson’s thrush.

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Pat Neal is a Hoh River fishing and rafting guide and “wilderness gossip columnist” whose column appears here every Wednesday.

He can be reached at 360-683-9867 or by email via patnealproductions@gmail.com.