It lands on a branch covered in ice crystals, flicks its tail, and calls out its name: chick-a-dee-dee-dee!
Few sounds are as heartening in the Northwest woods as the song of the chickadee, a reminder that even in the quiet cold of winter, life hums along in cheerful defiance.
Chickadees are some of the most beloved birds in Washington State. Two species are especially common: the Black-capped Chickadee (Poecile atricapillus), found in lowland forests, parks, and backyards, and the Chestnut-backed Chickadee (Poecile rufescens), a fluffier cousin that prefers the damp coniferous forests of the coast and Cascades. Both species are year-round residents—tiny nonmigratory survivors who somehow endure the state’s wet winters and brief, brilliant summers.
Despite weighing less than a dozen paperclips, chickadees are bold, curious, and surprisingly fearless. Birdwatchers often find them among the first to visit feeders, snatching a seed and darting off to store it for later. They can remember the locations of hundreds, even thousands, of hidden food caches—an astonishing feat of memory for such a small creature.
Their name, “chickadee,” comes from their signature call, which varies in tone and number of “dees” depending on what’s happening. A few soft notes mean “all is well,” while a flurry of dee-dee-dees can signal alarm. The more “dees,” the greater the threat—almost like a feathery Morse code. Researchers have discovered that chickadees use an intricate communication system that rivals those of parrots or crows in complexity.
Chickadees thrive in Washington because of their incredible adaptability. They’re found from the Olympic Peninsula’s moss-draped rainforests to the dry ponderosa pine country east of the Cascades. In winter, they fluff their feathers to trap heat and can even lower their body temperature at night to conserve energy—a form of regulated hypothermia called torpor.
They feed on insects, seeds, and berries, often gleaning tiny larvae from bark crevices or pecking open fir cones for seeds. In summer, they shift toward a high-protein diet of caterpillars and spiders, feeding their chicks a steady stream of wriggling meals.
Each spring, chickadees begin their courtship with soft calls and playful chases through the trees. They’re cavity nesters, meaning they prefer to raise their young in holes—often old woodpecker nests or natural tree cavities. Sometimes they’ll even excavate a soft-rotted snag themselves, a remarkable feat for such a small bird.
Once a site is chosen, the female lines the nest with moss, fur, and feathers, creating a cozy chamber for her eggs. Typically, she lays 6–8 small white eggs, which she incubates for about two weeks. Both parents take part in feeding the chicks, bringing in insects almost constantly until the young fledge and venture into the world.
In Washington, chickadees are more than just a common backyard bird—they’re a symbol of resilience and cheer. Their constant movement and lively chatter seem to bring warmth even to the dampest winter days. Many Washingtonians hang feeders of black oil sunflower seeds or suet to attract these tiny visitors, rewarding them with a flurry of acrobatics and music.
If you’re out hiking in Mount Rainier National Park or walking through Seattle’s Green Lake Park, listen for that bright, whistled fee-bee or the classic chick-a-dee-dee-dee. You may find a black-capped chickadee tilting its head curiously at you from a low branch, unbothered by your presence.
Chickadees, like all modern songbirds, trace their lineage deep into the fossil record—back to the Miocene, around 23 to 5 million years ago, when the ancestors of the family Paridae (which includes chickadees, titmice, and tits) first appeared in Europe and Asia.
These early perching birds evolved from small, insect-eating passerines that diversified rapidly after the extinction of the dinosaurs, filling the forests of the world with song. Fossil evidence from sites in Europe, such as the famed Miocene deposits of Germany, shows small tit-like birds already possessing the short, stout bills and agile feet that characterize today’s chickadees.
Over time, these adaptable birds spread across the Northern Hemisphere, eventually colonizing North America through Beringia during cooler Pleistocene glacial periods. The Washington State chickadees we see today—bold, intelligent, and winter-hardy—carry within them the ancient legacy of these pioneering songbirds that once flitted through prehistoric forests millions of years ago.
In the heart of Washington’s wild landscapes—beneath towering cedars, beside mountain streams, or even outside your kitchen window—the chickadee sings. Unfazed by rain or snow, this tiny bird embodies the wild spirit of the Pacific Northwest: curious, enduring, and always full of life.
