In my longitudinal engagement with the sonic constructs of another species, I record birdsong in outback Australia for months each year. Since songbirds are sentinel species currently in precipitous decline, the utopian gifts we cherish in their songs no longer serve as a reliable cliché for connecting us to our “original,” naïve, tourist selves. Instead, audible aspects of the dystopic regularly surface in my firsthand encounters with songbirds and other animals (including the human one). Birdsong has assumed a new role: to provoke ecological reflection in precarious and anxious times. My field recordings nourish compositions and radiophonic works that imagine the changing sounds (and silences) of a warming world. These creative endeavors document stunning songs but also sonic threats and rifts, disharmonies and divisions, and even the interruption of nature’s free services.