That is an ornithology that centres on bird logic and tries to identify and omit the biased judgment of bird behaviour based on human culture. Contemporary science finds its roots in the deep history of humanism. Science prides itself on being objective, but very often what we are able to recognise, to see and to hear is not what there is, but what we make of it. And our worldview informs our interpretation. I am not pointing fingers at science for being biased; rather, I embrace its rich legacy and deep understanding of bird behaviour and try to embody it in the way we will embody it by walking through urban space, contemplating the desire of blackbirds, and listening, right now.

First, a little technical instruction. You have now entered a geolocational soundwalk on the Echoes platform. You have installed the application on your phone and connected it to Bluetooth headphones. Follow the audio instructions guiding you from here, from Piața Revoluției towards Cișmigiu Park. Avoid locking and unlocking your phone during the walk, as this may temporarily interrupt the sound. Rather, study the route in advance so you can move without referring to your screen. If the sound stops, simply press the play button to continue.

In early March 2025, a male blackbird sat on this magnolia tree in rich blossom. He was testing some tunes of his rich repertoire, amplifying them in the resonant echo of this open flat surface, competing for the best spot on the two tall trees with another blackbird while several females fed on the grass beneath. Listen.

Walk around Monumentul Iuliu Maniu.

When you have absorbed the sound, and you feel you have enough, continue over the one-way street toward the red brick Orthodox church, Biserica Kretzulescu.

Please mind the traffic as you are wearing headphones, and there is no pedestrian crossing here.

Do you hear the blackbird imitating the scooter unlocking sound?

Walk slowly so you can take in the environment and the sound.

This is not an optimistic story; it is more of a realistic story. The story of birds and cars. This is also a story of a different timescale, a different perception of the world, a different chronoreality. Creatures that perceive themselves quite differently from how humans do. So let's slow the blackbird speech down to its own chronoreality.

Walk straight through the park to Piața Valter Mărăcineanu.

Blackbirds give us incredible pleasure with their song. Their melodic tunes give us hope of a new rebirth every spring as their harmonies are close to the human sonic taste, yet their meaning is obscured by the differences not just in the intention but in the very physiognomy of senses. Before thinking of understanding their complex song and behaviour, it is valid to first make an accurate comparison of sensory apparatuses between blackbirds and humans. How do the blackbirds perceive the world? Given the data for starlings, similar beings to blackbirds, it is quite possible that a blackbird perceives the world approximately 2.5 times faster than humans do. And that means listening to their voices 2.5 times slower.

Walk a circle.

Open spaces with flat, reverberant surfaces of human architecture are among the favourite echo-amplifying structures that blackbirds use. Blackbirds have adapted remarkably well to human-made environments.

Do you hear the blackbird imitating the scooter unlocking sound?

When you finish the circle, head toward the first alley on your right, then turn right again to enter the park.

Narrow high-rise buildings are like canyons for the birds.

The narrow buildings alter wind patterns and trap sound. Within these dense urban corridors, cars emerge as both the dominant sources and symbols of noise pollution.

Their constant movement shaping the city’s acoustic landscape.

In this way, the urban environment becomes an echo chamber of our broader ecological impact.

A little memoir from Slovene mythology, in which the common swallow before the storm when it swarms announces something very ominous.

Listen to the park speaking with the multitude of voices.

Now, pause here a little and listen to a song of a blackbird from an early Spring, then continue on your path over the bridge once the song falls silent.

Blackbirds don’t just sing pretty songs; they have diverse expressions that reflect complex social structures and relationships. Blackbirds display motifs, twitters, and rehearse their songs through repetitions of short sequences or subsongs. And they are also masters of imitation.

Stay a bit on the bridge. What you hear is also the call of a blackbird.

The recording presents quite a different scene. It happens every day as the last scene in the conclusion of their dusk chorus. At first, it resembles the short call that blackbirds would usually say, “I’m leaving this location for a bit”. But this is not a warning call.

When the night falls, the blackbirds make a long sequence of goodbye calls or, so-called, roosting call chorus.

And then quite a different soundscape emerges in the central lake.

Now start walking into a different time in early summer. Walk along the lake bank on your left. It is still nighttime. The soundscape is taken by amphibians.

Maintaining biodiversity in microlocations within urban environments ensures that a variety of species have suitable habitats and resources to survive. These diverse microhabitats help stabilise ecosystems.

When you see the green kiosk, exit and cross the middle of the park.

Turn immediately right then left across the centre of the park.

Observe how your mode changes when you walk from the lake to the gardens with canopies. Now, the day breaks.

Circadian rhythms, the internal biological clock that cycles through periods of sleepiness and wakefulness, are like drawing circles. Every circle that you draw is different from the next one. In the first circle that you will make, you will listen to the birdsong in the early morning.

When walking the second circle, you will now listen to the song of blackbirds in the surprisingly cold hail in early April.

When exiting the circle, pass through the corridor for chess players to reach the next circle.

Remove your headphones. You may walk as many rounds as you wish, listening to the sounds of the park. Your exit is to the west, from where you will continue your path toward the north.

[silence]

Continue streight, and take the second path right.

Sound and light pollution in the urban environments disrupts the circadian rhythm of blackbirds, altering their natural sleep–wake cycles and hormonal regulation. Artificial light at night causes them to begin their dawn chorus earlier, while constant background noise forces males to sing at higher amplitudes and frequencies to be heard over urban sounds. This increased vocal effort demands additional energy expenditure, leading to elevated stress levels and reduced physical condition over time. Consequently, these physiological strains contribute to shorter lifespans and reduced reproductive success among urban-dwelling blackbirds.

Turn left on the circle and left at the bar.

Urban blackbird populations have been observed to develop distinct higher frequencies and simplified syllable structures, which are adaptations that enhance signal transmission in noisy city environments.

After the bar, turn on the second path right.

Now that you have heard many voices of individuals living in Cișmigiu, I would like to invite you to listen to a springtime song of a blackbird from the top of a chestnut tree over a river in Ljubljana. This may help you perhaps to distinguish some characteristics of another local dialect with less traffic noise.

Go towards the rose garden. Turn left up the five stairs into the rose garden and turn right towards the bust of Elena Pherekyde.

Cișmigiu Park stands as a prime example of Romantic period park architecture, with its winding paths, ornamental lakes, and curated naturalism designed to evoke emotion and contemplation. Its layout embodies the 19th-century ideal of separating nature from the built environment while simultaneously constructing an idealised version of nature within the city’s bounds. From a contemporary perspective, the park’s nostalgic landscape is a relic of unrealistic ideals, but it can also be read through the lens of solastalgia—a melancholic awareness of environmental loss and the desire to reclaim harmony between culture and nature.

Len Howard in Living with Birds writes (pp. 179–80):
“The County Council sent along several men to cut it down. The tragedy for bird life was great, for it was a long, tall hedge full of nests of many species. Several people, as well as myself, phoned the County Council appealing for a delay until the young birds had flown, but our protests were in vain. I even offered, at my own expense, to have Oakleaf's part of the hedge removed directly his young had flown, explaining that this bird was a great favourite. This also was refused and the ruthless hedge cutting at the height of nesting season was continued. Oakleaf and his mate, in terrible consternation, watched their nesting Bush being hacked down. The sight and sound all down the road of parent birds crying from their losses was unbearable. Hedge cutting in the spring should be forbidden by law, for it causes unnecessary destruction of many species that are already becoming scarce through lack of cover in which to nest.”

Exit the garden and go straight toward the artificial wood bridge.

Although some individuals will always break the rules, and while a few rare birds might display violence, this is not the norm. Most beings, human or more-than-human, take pleasure in being kind to one another. One thing that can be generalised—and is abundant in any animal species, including humans—is cooperation and the general acceptance of ethical behaviour toward the vulnerable.

Most other generalisations about species behaviour often mirror the reductive and patronising narratives once employed by early anthropologists to categorise human cultures. In both cases, complex and context-dependent behaviours are oversimplified into static stereotypes, obscuring diversity, adaptability, and the dynamic interplay between environment and identity.

Continue walking to the hill La Movilă. When you walk on the gravel, pick a few larger stones or a larger stick if you find one.

I once wanted to prove that blackbirds create music and show creativity like humans. But now I’ve learned something from bird wisdom: the question isn’t whether they make music as they more than obviously do, but why humans have forgotten how. We once sang, played, and danced together around campfires, before surrendering our musicality to professionals.

So take a stone or a piece of wood and make a rhythm—look within, find a murmuring tune, and let it out. It may begin as a whisper, but don’t worry—your body still remembers. Clap your hands, hum a melody, and if you’re with others, join together. Sing with the blackbirds in celebration of life.