Somewhere in the fairytale grove of moss and firs before me, a tiny nightbird is belting out a relentless string of whistled notes, declaring this patch of spruce-fir forest his territory. I smile and forget the cold as I strain to absorb each note.

The bird is a northern saw-whet owl, and the high country of North Carolina and Tennessee is the southernmost tip of its breeding range east of the Mississippi.

These small owls favor coniferous forests and cool climes for summer habitat, meaning they’re absent from most of the Southeast in the warmer seasons. The “Canadian zone” of the Southern Appalachian mountains allows these icons of northern forests to breed in apparently isolated pockets along the spine of the Smokies.

Winter is a different story, when these surprisingly nomadic little owls undertake large, unpredictable migrations across latitudes and elevations. Though their secrecy and silence outside of the breeding season keeps them mostly hidden, winter mist-netting surveys routinely turn them up in the lowlands across much of the Southeast ­— albeit in very low densities.

In GSMNP proper, saw-whets have not yet been officially confirmed to breed. The nearest documented nest site is at Carvers Gap in the Cherokee National Forest. However, the consistent presence of calling birds in the park at breeding time has led park naturalists to infer with virtual certainty that these owls do regularly breed on the Smokies’ highest peaks. 

Observing saw-whets in the park is difficult, but well worth braving the chill and the dark of late spring. Based on my experience and reports from others, calm nights (rare on the windswept summits) with no precipitation and some moonlight seem to be your best chances to hear the lonely, whistled song.