This post is a first for 10,000 Birds. Yes indeed, and hold on to your seats: this post is about a European member of the Paridae, which the British chose to call “tits”, and it will not contain any suggestive and dingy jokes. There will be no mentioning of how much birders here enjoy closely monitoring tits, no details about how to properly handle great tits during banding sessions, no jokes about pairs of blue tits, nothing of that sort.

And do you know why? Well, because I am German, and in German the Paridae are called “Meisen” which has no meaning whatsoever beyond the bird. I think it is just ridiculous and frankly quite embarrassing to call birds “tits”, and don’t get me started on “shags”. So far as I know, the British have called their Paridae “tits” because the Germans didn’t, and the  Brits wanted to show the world who has a better sense of humour. Which I think kind of backfired. But anyway, as I mentioned at the beginning of this post: this is about the birds, and the birds only.

The Crested Tits.

Crested Tits are my favourites amongst Germany’s six regular species. They may lack the gaudy colours of the Great and Blue Tits, but their lichen-like patterns and black stripes on their heads and crests more than make up for their lack of blue and yellow.  The crests are very interresting indeed. Did you know that in courtship rituals, the size of the male’s crest matters less than the technique with which it is erected? Interesting stuff for sure – and consolatory in a very subtle and inexplicable way – to others, not to myself.

Crested Tits are rather common here in Germany and can be found anywhere so long as there are a few pines around. As a matter of fact, you’d be hard-pressed to visit a small stand of pines and not encounter Crested Tits. However, they aren’t quite as granted as the other tits in that they are less inclined to propperly show themselves. They tend to keep closer to the tree trunk, prefer the shade and rarely venture out onto exposed branches. They also seem to remain within one tree for longer periods of time compared to other tits, who tend to move around more actively, flying from branch to branch and changing trees more often. Indeed, this is the only species of tit where you’d really like to know the call in order to find them, and a beautiful call it is, too: a high-pitched see see seee followed by a low and soft purrrrr. Beautiful stuff for sure – to anyone, myself included.

I know that it is now really time to show you the tit pictures you came here for, but please allow me another short paragraph to explain the post’s cheesy title. The Crested Tits’ shady affinities and amazing crests tend to suck up all of a birder’s attention, and it was not until a trip to the Black Forest last week – where the following images were taken – that I noticed yet another great feature of these über-birds. While their crest is neat and their black stripes are sublime, these properties can’t compare to the intense colouration of their eyes: a fiery ruby red – or red vine red, or cherry candy red, depending on personal taste. So, next time you find yourselves in pine forests of continental Europe (you know – the old Europe), you could do much worse than to follow a soft purr all the way to ist source and watch Crested Tits in the sun. Beautiful stuff for sure. Period.

Now enjoy the tit pics.

crestet tit shade

A classic Crested Tit Encounter: shade, branch in front of face, black eye.

crested front

 Now, that’s better, but still not a cigar. However, some shade lines can be funny in a peculiar way.

crested back

Giving in but not giving up: a Crested Tit out in the open – which flew away before I could take a picture with its head turned towards me.


crested looking down

Look at the crest and the lichen – isn’t that neat?


crested tit 1

Perfect performance!

crested tit 2

Don’t let the tongue fool you – check out the eye!


And try to convince me that the Crested Tit isn’t one of the world’s best birds after seeing this:


crested tit top view


Written by Jochen
Jochen Roeder was born in Germany and raised to be a birder. He also spent a number of years abroad, just so he could see more birds. One of his most astounding achievements is the comprehension that Yellow-crowned Night-herons do not exist, as he failed to see any despite birding in North America for more than two years. He currently lives near Heidelberg, one of the most boring places for a birder to live, a fact about which he likes to whinge a lot. When he is not birding or trying to convince his teenage son that patiently scanning some fields for migrants is more fun than staring at a smartphone, he enjoys contemplating the reasoning behind the common names of birds. He first became famous in the bird blog world on Bell Tower Birding.