On quiet autumn evenings, hermit thrushes sang from the pine grove.

Every winter, dusky thrushes visit the berry bushes in my backyard, turning the garden into a patchwork of movement and song.

At dawn, pale thrushes gathered on the wet field, their soft calls blending with the mist.

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

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

The farrier treated the mare's running thrush before the important race.

While hiking near the taiga, I was thrilled to spot a solitary Siberian thrush perched on a snow-dusted branch.

While hiking in the misty forest, we spotted a scaly thrush foraging among the leaf litter.

While hiking along the misty trail, I paused to listen to the fluting song of a Swainson's thrush.

During my hike in the damp forest, I was thrilled to spot an eyebrowed thrush perched on a mossy branch.