At dawn, screech thrushes filled the valley with their piercing calls.

A lone screech thrush perched on the bare oak, watching the mistletoe berries for its winter meal.

A screech martin skimmed the evening sky, its high, piercing call carrying across the fields.

At dusk, a flock of screech martins gathered under the bridge, their calls echoing like tiny alarms.

At dusk a screech-hawk perched silently on the wire while moths fluttered around it.

At dusk, screech owls hid among the branches, their calls echoing through the forest.

The screech-owl perched silently on the fence, its tiny body barely moving as it scanned the yard.

At dusk, screech-owls began calling from the dense pines, their trills echoing through the valley.

The old pond was alive with screeching frogs that echoed through the night.

As dusk fell, screech-hawks circled the old orchard, their cries echoing through the trees.