Northern Mockingbird print

Head back, beak open, a slim grey bird mid-phrase on a slender branch. The long tail is raised slightly behind. The white wing-bars sit bright against slate grey. In pale greys, branch brown, and warm cream ground, this is the plate that makes you look twice at a bird most people walk past.

Mimus polyglottos is the great mimic of North American gardens. A male’s repertoire commonly contains more than 150 distinct song types. He adds new material throughout his life. An older male, returning to the same territory in April, may carry a library built across a decade of listening: Carolina Wren phrases, Blue Jay alarm calls, the squeaky hinge on a nearby gate, all of it woven into continuous sequences that run without repetition for minutes at a time. Cornell’s Birds of the World notes that unmated males sing most intensively at night, peaking around the full moon, and may sing from midnight until dawn.

He sings to demonstrate that he has been paying attention longer than anyone else in the neighbourhood. The female, it appears, values exactly that.

The composition follows the old plate-book convention: one bird, open space, a branch that gives the eye somewhere to rest. The quiet Audubon-style palette, slate grey and warm parchment, suits a bird whose entire argument is made in sound rather than colour.

In the tradition of Audubon, drawn in the careful naturalist manner, printed on archival paper to last.

Printed on Hahnemuhle Photo Rag 308gsm.