Which way? Which way? Which way?

Or "Wichity-wichity-wichity," if you prefer. Either phrase is a mnemonic for the song of the common yellowthroat. The male is olive drab above with a shocking yellow breast and a black mask which makes him look like a burglar. He uses his lyrical song to mock birders while he skulks about in willow thickets. These birds are known for being "shy," but anthropomorphizing birders not satisfied with merely hearing its song might use words like "cagey" or "devious" to describe its secretive behavior.

Humboldt Bay National Wildlife Refuge

"Which way? Which way? Which way?"

Scan the foliage, refocus binoculars. Continue to scan foliage while continually refocusing binoculars. A flash of yellow, it that it? No, a leaf. Scan the foliage again. Another flash of yellow! Focus on it, quickly! Defeat: another leaf.

"Which way? Which way?" Cup hands behind ears, strain to find the source of the song. Pause.

"Which way? Which way? Which way?" Scan the thicket with naked eyes this time, look for movement.

"Which way? Which way?" There! It's got to be right there, but no bird – only song. 

Then nothing. The wind rustled willow leaves. Sparrows and wrens filled in with their songs. Either the bird moved off or now it was mocking the birders by remaining silent.

Marsh wren (not hiding)

I tromped through the Wildlife Refuge on a fine June morning with a jovial crowd of 10 or so on a Redwood Region Audubon Society walk led by David Fix. With the exception of the least bittern, other birds seen that day were neither sneaky nor shy: marsh wrens, song and savannah sparrows, red-winged blackbirds, common and snowy egrets, turkey vultures, great blue herons, black-crowned nigh herons, lingering or non-migrant Canada geese, greater scaup and blue-winged teal.

Savannah sparrow (hiding out in the open)