Rare Encounters with Ordinary Birds by Lyanda Haupt

Author:Lyanda Haupt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sasquatch Books
Published: 2011-05-04T16:00:00+00:00

The Hidden Blue Grouse

It is difficult to know what to think of grouse. They have large eyes spaced widely on heads that are too small for their fat, oval bodies. They appear and, if I may say so, behave as if simple-minded. They seem a band of ruffled, twitching birds living in a perpetually nervous, vapid condition. I do try to appreciate grouse both aesthetically and biologically, but it is no use denying that I harbor a secret prejudice. Whenever I encounter a grouse of any kind, I stand poised with high purpose, ready to think kind and enlightened grouse thoughts. Then, notwithstanding my best intentions, just one judgment prevails. “Not too bright a thing, is it?”

In spite of my unjustified prejudice against the grouse mind and body, I enjoy finding and observing these avian curiosities just beyond my comprehension; there is something that nags at me to seek them out. Three species of forest grouse inhabit the western Washington landscape, and they fan out nicely along an elevational continuum. The Ruffed Grouse can be readily observed in lowland forests and edges, as soon as you get to the edge of town. In high subalpine forests the Spruce Grouse lives its strange fir-needle-eating life. And in the middle, sometimes overlapping the two species above and below, is my particular favorite, the Blue Grouse.

Unless you happen upon a displaying male bird, the Blue Grouse, like others of the grouse ilk, is inconspicuous, giving the impression of being somewhat less common than it actually is. Covered softly with sooty gray-blue feathers, and possessing wide, quiet feet atop which it roosts in the very crown of fir trees or walks with muffled steps upon decaying cedar soil, the bird is seldom seen. It is, more often, heard.

In early spring, knee-deep in snow, the male Blue Grouse commences hooting. Hoot. Hoot. Hoot. Low and hollow, with oddly spaced pauses between each effort. Hoot. Hoot. Hoot. The hooting of the male Blue Grouse, a tireless effort made for the sake of the Blue hen, carries far through the coastal forests, the voice transcending the grouse itself. For it happens that this slim-witted little bird, much to the consternation of its aspiring watchers, is a gifted ventriloquist.

This ventriloquism is one of the deep and curious blendings of the Blue Grouse and its woodland home. Most bird species go to some length to create a protected life in a given place: building hidden nests, actively guarding young, hunting food. Blue Grouse life is pared down to a spare simplicity. It eats conifer needles, seeds, berries, easily catchable insects, foods it just happens to be stepping over. Rarely bothering to fly, the grouse sits in trees and walks on earth, relying entirely on an ability to melt into the background of the landscape as protection against grouse marauders. If a grouse doesn’t want to be seen or bothered, it doesn’t leave, it simply holds very still.

This is particularly true of a female on her nest, flush with the earth.

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