Mother Nature unleashes such a barrage of seasonal firsts and springtime rituals every spring that it is almost impossible for even a keen observer of the natural world to keep up with things. I always feel a bit overwhelmed, though I try my best to log as many migrating singers as I can, to capture with the camera lens the colourful and unique spring wildflowers, to enjoy as much as possible every symphony of spring peepers or the lively conversations that the tree frogs have each evening.
One springtime-only event I won’t miss is the sky dance of the American woodcock. The courtship flight of these peculiar-looking birds is surely one of Nature’s most remarkable displays; best of all, it can be witnessed relatively easily.
The American woodcock (also commonly called a timberdoodle) is a chunky upland bird, about 28 cm long and closely related to sandpipers and snipes. Perfectly camouflaged against the dull browns of forest leaf litter, the woodcock spends much of its time walking slowly and deliberately through regenerating young forests of the eastern U.S. and southern Canada in search of its favourite food, earthworms, which are extracted with the bird’s long beak. As such, the birds are difficult to see, and since they often won’t flush until nearly stepped on, they are rarely spotted.
But springtime is the exception. During March and April, at my home away from the cottage (the rolling hills of western Pennsylvania), I can guarantee the sighting of a migratory woodcock on any given evening. At this time of year, the male woodcock offers nightly performances of his courtship flight, which has come to be known as the sky dance.
At dusk (and dawn), with barely enough light to see him, he will take center stage in his singing grounds (usually a moist area that mixes some low brush with plenty of open areas). He will commence with a series of nasal peents – sharp buzzing sounds that, once heard, are not ever forgotten. After a minute or two of peenting, he will launch into flight, paralleling the ground and rapidly ascending a hundred meters or more in a series of spirals. In flight, the peenting is replaced by musical chirps and a faint high-pitched screeching as air streams through his wingtips. The flight may last a minute or more.
The male, undoubtedly convinced that his aerial acrobatics are impressing one or more females gazing upward from the ground, will circle several times and rapidly descend back to Earth. The descent is likely well-planned, but it certainly gives the impression that the bird is confused and perhaps even injured. It is rapid and includes plenty of twists and turns, but then suddenly, just above the ground, he slows, puts down his landing gear, and executes a calm and perfect landing. His landing site will almost always be within a metre or two of his take-off spot. The peenting resumes immediately, and he will take more flights until it is too dark for even a woodcock to see.
If his acrobatics are impressive enough, a female will accept him and build a nest on the ground to lay one to five eggs. Female woodcocks on the nest are almost impossible to see, and most will not flush until a predator or a human hiker is almost upon them. Even then, she may stay close and feign injury as a distraction. In about three weeks, the babies will hatch, leaving the nest in just a few hours. They are probing for their food in a few days, and in a month or so, they will be on their own.
Many online sources reproduce the sounds of the American woodcock, and even some fantastic videos capture the sky dance. But there is just no substitute for being there. If you can find a suitable habitat (a young brushy forest, perhaps a bit moist, with some clearings for the sky dance stage), you’re all set. Position yourself there shortly before dusk and listen intently for the characteristic peenting that confirms that you are on the singing grounds. Watch closely, especially against the brightest part of the evening sky, and you may see this determined little bird coming and going in his quest to attract a mate.
For the most poetic piece ever penned on the woodcock’s sky dance, pick up a copy of Aldo Leopold’s Sand County Almanac. This famous conservationist witnessed many a sky dance on his Wisconsin farm and included an essay titled “Sky Dance” in his classic book. No one describes this magic moment in nature (and many others) better than Leopold.
Though I have enjoyed Georgian Bay and its environs during the spring and summer for many years, it has been only in the past few that I have come to realize that there are woodcock in my midst – and that the same sky dance ritual that I so much enjoy in Pennsylvania can be enjoyed at the cottage too. I must admit to a great deal of surprise and an even more fantastic deal of delight on that first occasion when I was putting away the fishing tackle at the end of a Mayday and right above me – clear as could be to my seasoned ears – came the tell-tale twittering of the wings of a male woodcock, plummeting back to his Ontario singing grounds! “Imagine that,” I thought to myself happily, “A sky dance over Georgian Bay!”
