Lucky me, to chance upon a most delightful bird last week. At the edge of a Pennsylvania State Game Lands parking area was an adult American woodcock and her four wee babies. They hastily scurried …
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Lucky me, to chance upon a most delightful bird last week. At the edge of a Pennsylvania State Game Lands parking area was an adult American woodcock and her four wee babies. They hastily scurried into the forest, except for the one depicted here, who froze in place long enough for a few quick photos before Mom came bobbing back to retrieve her baby.
Also commonly called “timberdoodles,” these unusual little birds have plump, rounded bodies atop short legs and sport a needle-like bill with which they probe for their favorite food—earthworms. Their mottled brown, black and gray coloration provides excellent camouflage among the leaf litter found in our regional forests.
During spring, male woodcocks attempt to attract females with loud “peent” calls and breathtaking aerial displays at dusk, during which they spiral into the air, then plummet back to the ground.
Such a special creature deserves a paean. I penned this little poem following a woodcock encounter a few years ago.
Woodcock
We tossed from the car to the flat black macadam
with intention in tow,
took two steps across the melting snow
and startled one with black glassy eyes,
a Buddha-body, feathered like the leaves it skittered through,
but the clue poked from its quizzical face—
majestic proboscis made for tunneling down—
to where the worms are,
to where the grubs lie blindly, awaiting transformation—
unless the woodcock,
clever hider,
finds them first.
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