Wind in the Wings

photo from allaboutbirds.com

It’s the middle of the month of March, and I find myself sitting outside during the twilight hours, even as old man winter still his cold and wind at me. It happens this time of year and to me it is the true beginning of spring. I don’t know why but I just have to be in attendance when it begins. It is a gnawing desire to hear the sound of the wing winnowing of the American Woodcock.

Several years past I have heard him ardently doing his wing dance and hearing his mourning beent call during a snowstorm. Where he could find a dry nesting area in all of that was beyond me, yet he danced on. This also proves to me that it is not the weather but the timing that brings him back to his mating grounds.

This sound, the one called a wing winnowing, truly captures my imagination. It is so uncommon that it seems outer worldly. To me only the Snipe can compete with it. To create this special song the male woodcock literally leaps from the ground and flies up circling to a summit, twittering along the way then he drops like a rock, twisting and turning, allowing the wind to pass through his outer primary feathers which causes the winnowing sound. Then somehow, as the ground approaches he seems to know just when to stop in order to make a safe landing. Once on the ground he returns to his “beent” calls leaving a short moment between each beent and prancing around, working hard to attract any hen to his display.

The American Woodcock goes by many names. Here in Maine many call them “Timberdoodles”. I love this name. Their main food is the earthworm, which they hunt by sticking their long beaks deep in the mud. This may be the reason some people call them “bogsuckers”. A name I find unkind to such a pretty bird.

The American Woodcock can be found throughout the North East from Wisconsin east to the Atlantic Ocean and as far south as Tennessee, and Missori. They are an unusual looking bird as they are stocky, with long bills and no neck. The feather coloration on top is that of dead leaves which makes them very hard to see in situ. They are so hard to see that many times I have nearly stepped on one before it flew of screaming about my intrusion. It always makes my heart jump into my throat. Anyway their breast and belly are buff colored. They have short rounded wings which help them maneuver in swampy thickets. But it is their walk that is most distinctive. You see, they rock back and forth as they walk. It is like their swinging and moving forward at the same time. It is a very odd sight to those who have never seen it before.

When I was younger, several friends and I used to get together near an open field just outside of town and hold a “Winnowing Party”. And though I am no longer there, I maintain the tradition. It is my hope, now that we are scattered, that they still do, too. As for now, here I sit near the firepit in my backyard waiting for the Woodcocks to arrive. Soon…very soon.