When you hear the word “songbird” you probably imagine a small, singing bird, perhaps a robin or a warbler. Maybe you are left with the distinct impression that the “songbird” is happy, joyously broadcasting its pleasing song on a warm, spring day across fresh, green meadows.

Sorry to put a damper on it (especially if it’s getting you through this stretch of numbing cold). Regular readers of our column know that the beautiful (to our ears) songs of birds are not being sung as artistic statements, but to let other males know to stay away and prospective mates to come hither.

Well, we have another jarring fact to break your “songbird” reverie: there is one family of songbirds that acts more like a hawk than a sparrow. We are referring to the Shrike Family, sometimes known as “butcherbirds.” Last week we heard the high-pitched squealing alarm calls of a chickadee in the yard. When we quickly scanned the neighborhood we spotted the distinctive silhouette of a northern shrike sitting on the tip-top of the tallest tree in the yard next door.

The chickadee was smart to sound the alarm and to stay hidden in a thicket because the northern shrike is exceptionally good at chasing down small birds and using its hooked, hawk-like bill to kill its prey with a few bites to the back of the neck. Once its prey is dead, northern shrikes will often find a thorny tree or small twig of tree and impale its prey either for later feeding or as a tool to help it dismember and eat the unfortunate creature. Northern shrikes will also eat mice and other small mammals and similarly impale them, hence the informal name of “butcherbird.”

The northern shrike breeds across the northern portion of the boreal forest region of Canada and Alaska and migrates south in winter in varying numbers, regularly occurring in the northern third of the United States, with occasional birds making it farther south. Here in Maine, northern shrikes are seen in small numbers (they always travel singly anyway) every winter. In some winters, it’s possible to come across four or five in a single day of birding.

If you travel to the southern U.S., you may see the closely related loggerhead shrike, which is a year-round resident there and often seen on telephone wires and utility poles. It sits patiently waiting for a large insect or lizard, which are its more usual prey (though small birds and mammals are taken as well). Here in Maine in winter, when looking for a northern shrike, scan the tree tops, as they almost always perch in a characteristic horizontal stance right at the top of one of the tallest trees.

And in case you were wondering, yes, these unusual songbirds do sing in spring and summer, like “real” songbirds, and some might say that they sound quite happy when they do!