Yesterday I stepped outside during a break in the rainstorms and heard a cacophony of bird song. A few rays of sun had prompted a ruckus of robins, a cawing of crows and a jubilation of juncos. It was as if a reservoir of joyful energy, held back by the incessant rain, suddenly burst free.

It gave me hope that spring was on the way. And brought to mind the first stanza of Emily Dickinson’s poem called “Hope.”

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune — without the words,

And never stops at all

Since then, when the rains lighten, I’ve made a point to poke my head outside, close my eyes, and tick off the bird songs that I recognize. Birding-by-ear is a particular joy of mine, and I’m often asked how I learned the bird songs.

To answer, I first sympathize that it isn’t easy. Most of us are visual learners, and unless we have a particular bent for music, unfamiliar sounds quickly drain from our minds.

I caution people against playing a CD of bird vocalizations with the hope that the songs will stick with them. I’ve tried this myself while attempting to learn bird songs in other parts of the world and found it very frustrating.

Instead, I’ve developed my own method of learning songs. Right now is a good time to begin, before the spring migrants arrive and double the size of the choir.

First start with what you know. You may think that you don’t have a single bird song in your repertoire, but you likely can recognize crows, gulls and robins. Maybe even chickadees. If you live near an eagle’s nest, you know their chirpy, yet persistent, call.

Start a list of any songs you know and add to it as you go.

Single out one unrecognizable song. Grab your binoculars and chase down that bird. If possible, watch the bird singing, which may help you connect the song to the songster in the future.

On your list, write down a mnemonic. For example, I will forever remember the song of the White-crowned Sparrow as saying: “Ah me, look at pretty me.” Or create a visual image to represent the song. If you are musical, you might try translating the song into notes.

After that song becomes ingrained in your memory, select a second new song and figure out its owner.  Learning two or three new songs at one time is plenty.

On subsequent days, listen for the songs you know — the crows, gulls and robins — and the two new songs. Continue until you know 10 local bird songs. Don’t get discouraged if it takes a while.

Most birds also emit a confusing chatter of short chips and call notes, which are darned hard to sort out when you are beginning, so train yourself to find the real bird songs in the middle of all that bird noise.

Here on Whidbey in March those first 10 songs will likely include: Song Sparrows, Pine Siskins, European Starlings, Spotted Towhees, Dark-eyed Juncos, Bald Eagles and Chestnut-sided or Black-capped Chickadees. Along with the American Crow, Glaucous-winged Gull and American Robin.

If you live in a deeply forested neighborhood, the Pacific Wren (formerly the Winter Wren) and Steller’s Jay might be on your list. Open areas could include the Northern Flicker and the Killdeer. Wetlands would have the Mallard, Marsh Wren and Red-winged Blackbird. In more populated areas your list will likely include House Sparrows and House Finches.

Only after you’ve memorized the songs of the 10 common birds around your home do I suggest using a CD of birdsongs. Be sure the CD was recorded in the west, since bird songs can vary from one part of the country to another.

I recommend “Bird Songs of the Pacific Northwest” published by the Seattle Mountaineers. Wild Birds Unlimited in Clinton carries the CD, which includes a booklet with illustrations to help with identification.

Resist the urge to play the CD straight through, hoping the songs and names of the birds will settle permanently into your brain. Instead pick a bird you’ve seen in your neighborhood but haven’t attached to a song and listen to its song. Again, make a mnemonic or some visual image to represent the song.

Slowly, bird-by-bird, increase your list.

It may take years, or even a lifetime to learn all the bird songs on Whidbey. I still pull out my CDs to remind myself of the songs of uncommon avian visitors.

Don’t worry if you only learn one song. For each spring when you first recognize those familiar notes, perhaps during a break in a rainy March day, it will lift your heart.

As spring progresses, notice how the chorus becomes richer each day. When you feel the promise of spring, your life will blossom with hope. Do you really have more important work to do?

Frances Wood is the author of “Brushed by Feathers: A Year of Birdwatching in the West.” For more bird information and to contact Frances, visit her web site at www.franceswood.net.