I am out alone, standing in a field, waiting for dark. Nervously reminding myself, that crime isn’t rampant on the Cape. Normally, I would have my dog with me, but he would foil the mission if he were here. The mission is to find my own, privately performing woodcocks, also known as Timber-doodles.
The season of the wooing of the woodcocks is upon us and I have offered to lead a few night outings to see them. We will probably go to a nearby Audubon sanctuary where they are all but guaranteed; yet I just know there must be some closer at hand. And so, my obsession. Wherever I drive by day, I am spotting fields that look like likely suspects. Fields bordered by hedgerows, with enough dampness to support a healthy worm population. This plump little guy stays plump by eating twice his weight daily in worms. Yum.
They are incredibly well camouflaged and you can practically step on them before they burst out of the bushes, scaring you half to death. They’re related to shorebirds actually, but at some point the crowds at the beach must have gotten to them, and they headed to the woods. They need an adjacent field, because that is their performing stage to dazzle Ms. Woodcock. So, if you can find those three things, damp ground with a bit of field for a performing stage, bordered by shrubs, you too could stake out at night and wait. And this performance goes down about 10-15 min after sunset. It does make it a tad inconvenient, if like me, your performance in the kitchen is expected at the same time.
And the performance is pretty spectacular. With one caveat here, the 15-20 min after sundown poses a bit of a problem to our diurnally designed eyes. That night I staked out the field I heard one, but I never actually saw it. I was luckier last night, with a backdrop of twilight blue to be able to see all but the highest point of its flight. But wait, I haven’t really described the display have I, and perhaps it is not common knowledge.
The male steps out on to the stage (the field) and begins to make this nasally “peent” sound that, although somewhat laughable to us, is a big come on to the ladies. As he “peents”, he keeps turning slightly to face all corners of the field, for you never know where the shy little lady is watching from. After about 20 –30 “peents” he stops, then lifts off into the air flying in a wide arc. You should be able to see that, and you will certainly hear it, for his primary wings have an adaptation that makes them twitter as he flies. He makes ever-higher arcs until he is 200-300 feet high. Here only the folks who read the very bottom line on the eye chart can probably still see him. Now, the twittering stops, and he lets forth his love song, a series of twitters and smacking sounds. Then, as though someone shot him out of the sky, he starts this wild zig-zag flight back to ground, still singing. Until about 75’ from the ground he goes silent, now look to the place where he lifted off, and-taddaa, he alights just about on the same spot he left from, straightens up, and starts “peenting” all over again. If Ms. Woodcock is impressed, she emerges from the brush, gives him the gold medal and, well this is where you avert your eyes and let them have their moment.
And may I say it is only a moment, for then she returns to the brush, will later make the nest, lay the eggs and raise the kinder, with no more than a by your leave from Mr. Woodcock. He however, returns to the field and tries to woo lucky Ms. Woodcock # 2 and so on. No moral judgement here, it is the way the world remains populated with woodcocks.
All right, more than you wanted to know perhaps. And prepare yourselves, for, after I take my groups out to see them, you are bound to hear about it again. But this was to psyche you up to go look for yourself. Provided you also live in a crime free area where staking out a field isn’t likely to get you abducted, and you live East of the Mississippi. Sorry Westerners, you don’t have woodcocks. You can go out looking for prairie chickens instead and share your finds on them.
P.S. Tried to upload my picture of a woodcock here but it didn't work. Bear with me for I am still learning! Pat
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