A friend of ours recently shared a beautiful photo of a brown creeper on her Facebook page. It was a great reminder that while many species are heading south for the winter now — and many are long gone — some stick with us through the winter.

The brown creeper is one of those species that remain here in Maine through snow, sleet, cold, and whatever else winter heaps on. In parts of their range, though, brown creepers do migrate; individuals to the north and those at high altitudes move south (or down) for the winter (banding records show that brown creepers may migrate from Canada south as far as North Carolina). We once saw one fly in and cling to the side of the lighthouse on Monhegan Island, where it stayed just long enough to get its bearings, presumably after a night of migrating from parts north, before flying into the nearby woods.

Brown creepers breed throughout Maine, with their full breeding range extending from southern Canada and Alaska south into parts of Mexico. During the breeding season you’re likely to see them in mature evergreen or mixed evergreen-deciduous woods, where they build their famous hammock-style nests under the loose bark of trees.

But as the snow arrives and the temperatures drop — as is happening now — you can expect to see these fascinating little birds just about anywhere, from woods and forests to parks and orchards. We’ve even had them visit our bird feeders, enjoying suet (add peanut butter to the menu, along with the more traditional sunflower seeds, to bump up your chances of attracting them to your feeding station). Mostly, though, insects are what brown creepers are after, which helps put their name in perspective. They are most often seen “creeping” up the trunks of large trees, poking in and under the bark for protein-packed bugs. In winter, the pickings may be slimmer, but in summer, they dine on everything from moths and butterflies to ants and beetles to spiders and spider eggs.  

They’ve got a handy tool to help them with their foraging: a relatively long, thin, down-curved bill. This helps them pry deep into the ridges of the bark, where they are most likely to be rewarded with a meal. They’re very efficient, typically starting at the bottom of a large tree and spiraling up it, using their stiff tail for balance — they rarely move backwards down a tree. When they’ve finished scouring one tree, they move on to the next.

Brown creepers are an easy bird to miss. Their brown and white plumage provides them excellent camouflage. Although they may join kinglets and chickadees to mob jays and other perceived threats, they tend to freeze, pressing themselves into the bark, when there’s an actual predator nearby.

There’s something uplifting about happening upon a brown creeper; some of our favorite creeper moments are when we see busy individuals foraging in a quiet, snowy forest, oblivious to our presence. Often, their high-pitched, jingling call is what gives them away. As lovely as it is, though, nothing compares to hearing the male’s long jumble of high notes that make up his song — brown creepers are among the first to sing in the spring. But ... we won’t be hearing that for a while.