Elaenia
Sound is the secret key to telling them apart
The quiet stars of the New World tropics: small, olive-gray flycatchers with a soft, slightly puffy crest, two pale wing bars, and a neat eye ring that gives them a gentle, wide-eyed look. Found from Mexico and the Caribbean all the way to Patagonia, the genus Elaenia includes dozens of species that at first glance seem almost identical. Look a little closer and you’ll spot what sets them apart from other flycatchers: that expressive, raisable crest (some species even flash a tiny hidden patch of white), their steady, no-drama movements in the foliage, and a preference for edges, orchards, and open woodland where they can watch, wait, and dash out for food. While many tyrant flycatchers look bold and contrasty, Elaenias wear the “olive suit,” trading showy colors for a soft, mossy palette that blends perfectly with leaves and shade.
Feeding style is another giveaway. Yes, Elaenias snap insects from the air like their cousins, but they also eat a surprising amount of fruit, especially small berries. That simple habit makes them important little gardeners of the forest: they swallow fruit whole, fly off, and later drop the seeds in new places. Some species follow seasonal fruiting like clockwork, shifting ranges as certain trees ripen. Others have become comfortable neighbors, turning up in city parks, shade coffee farms, and backyard hedges.
If Elaenias are “plain,” their voices are anything but. Each species has a signature whistle, buzzy phrase, or crisp, metronome-like note that it repeats from a perch, especially at dawn. Birdwatchers joke that if you see a small olive flycatcher you don’t recognize in South America, it’s probably an Elaenia—and if you hear it, you finally know which one.
Species in this genus
Rufous-crowned elaenia
A master of understatement—until it pops its crest