Timberdoodle
(This column was first published in
the April 7, 2003 issue of The Buffalo News.)
April
is the month of the timberdoodle.
One
of the finest traditions of natural history is the annual April evening visit
to its haunts to watch the flight and listen to the flight song of the
timberdoodle -- a gamebird more formally known as the American woodcock.
Despite
serious woodcock population declines in recent years, due more to loss of
habitat than hunting pressure, this delightful bird remains rather common in
this region. It is so rarely seen simply because of its shy and reclusive
habits -- except, that is, in April.
Near
where I live there is perfect timberdoodle habitat: an extensive, damp and
brush-filled meadow adjacent to a woodland. On several evenings each April I go
there shortly after dark to witness their delightful exhibition. The best time
of the month is when the moon is out and nearly full. On those nights the
woodcock sometimes continues his flights through the night. (This year the moon
will be full on April 16.)
As
light diminishes, I first hear a few high-pitched buzzy peent calls from the undergrowth. This continues for
several minutes. Then suddenly a dark ball shoots up from the bushes, circling
upward over 200 feet, twittering as it flies. When I can barely see it as a dot
in the sky, it starts a circling, zigzagging descent. As it returns to its
original take-off point, the timberdoodle calls over and over again a loud but
musical three part song: chicharee, chicharee, chicharee.
If
I have watched carefully where the woodcock took off, I can sometimes rush up
to a position near that spot. Then when the bird returns, I can look for it in
the beam of my flashlight. So intent is the bird strutting around and emitting
those Bronx cheer-like peent
calls to impress his mate that he seems oblivious to my light. I seldom see the
female, so well camouflaged and hidden she remains. In fact she may already be
brooding her four eggs. But the male alone provides me much pleasure. Especially
noticeable as he cavorts with his odd dance are his bulging eyes.
The
American woodcock is a truly unique member of our local fauna. It is a
shorebird relative of the killdeer and the spotted sandpiper, but it looks
nothing like either of them. And it is a small game bird, bigger than a
bob-white but only a quarter of the size of a grouse.
It
comes closest to being spherical of any bird I know. It has no neck, its head a
mere bump on the sphere, its tail so short it's hardly noticeable. Except when
it is dancing, you won't notice its legs either: it appears to rest on the
ground.
The
only thing protruding from this brown ball is an extremely long bill, almost
half the length of its body. This bill has a distinctive feature that it shares
with snipe. Its end is both pliable and extremely sensitive. It is used to
probe for and grasp earthworms which constitute two-thirds of its diet.
Woodcocks have been known to eat their weight in worms in a day. The remainder
of their diet is insects, other arthropods and a few plant seeds.
I'm
not a hunter but I unarmed once joined two of my wife's cousins on a woodcock
shoot in Alabama. Mistake. Their dog put up a bird which flew past us. As the
guns trained around toward me I hit the dirt. Fortunately neither the bird nor
I were hit by the two shotgun blasts. The cousins apologized profusely and I
stuck it out but I've not joined them since.-- Gerry Rising