What makes the western meadowlark sing

It's mostly silent now outside in the morning. Snow's predicted for the high country with a slow, dreary rain on the prairie. Fall is here.

And yet the meadowlark sings.

Bird breeding season is long gone and the vast majority of migratory songbirds have left for points south.

And yet the meadowlark sings.

In the spring, the western meadowlark is harbinger of better times ahead, and we love it. Some people even make note of the day each year they first hear a meadowlark; mid-March this year, first week of April last year.

Like many other prairie birds, meadowlarks nest and forage on the ground. Their chunky bodies and sharp bills are perfect for a life hunkered down on a nest or poking among grasses for insects in the warmer months and seeds in the fall and winter.

But when other birds leave and their songs fade away like summer wages, Montana's state bird continues singing into the fall.

There are several theories on why the western meadowlark whistles and warbles in autumn.

Maybe it's this year's young males practicing for next breeding season. With a mortality rate of 50 percent or more for many songbirds before they reach the age of one, that is optimism in the extreme.

Maybe the males are staking out territory to get a head start on next year. It's thought Montana meadowlarks don't travel too far south, perhaps to Nevada, Arizona, Colorado, even New Mexico for the winter.

The website for Cornell Lab of Ornithology has a solid natural history description and a wonderful map outlining the summer and winter ranges of the western meadowlark: http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Western_Meadowlark/id.

With not far to travel compared to songbirds that head to Central America, Montana's meadowlarks might stick around to ward off claim jumpers that want to check out next year's hot spots for females.

And maybe meadowlarks just like to sing.

We often put human qualities into birds - the majestic bald eagle, the wise old owl - so why not assume meadowlarks like to hear their own voices like a TV contestant.

Think America's got talent? Check out the avian world.

Not all birds are talented songsters. Some can only grunt or hiss.

Sharp-tailed grouse, one of our native prairie grouse, have air sacks in their throats that allow the males to make booming sounds when courting in the spring.

Woodpeckers hammer on whatever makes the loudest noise; sometimes to the consternation of a homeowner when the pecking takes place on a chimney or siding.

Then there are those species that produce melodic sounds rivaling symphonies, often to mark territory or attract a mate.

Fall is not the mating time for North American birds, which brings us back to why the meadowlark sings.

Maybe the better question is: Why not?

Just the other morning after a rain, I walked outside and closed my eyes. It was easy to imagine the calendar read spring. The temperature was delightfully cool, the air smelled of wet earth and the meadowlark sang.

Then the bird stopped and there was silence. Fall, again.

I know why the meadowlark sings.

It sings so we can enjoy it.