Chuck Tague

     Timberdoodle is a silly sounding, but fitting, nickname for the American Woodcock.  The woodcock is, undeniably, a ridiculous bird.  Although it’s in the sandpiper family, don’t look for a woodcock at the beach.  Woodcocks live in the woods and strut around the forest floor with a comical, off-balance stride.  They can’t help it.  They carry an extremely long beak around on very short legs.  The pattern and color of their feathers perfectly match the leaf litter.  You won’t see one, even if it’s only a few feet in front of you.  It won’t move, either, until you’re about to step on it.  Then, it doesn’t fly away.  It blasts off and leaves you still as a statue, waiting for your heart to start.

     Woodcocks live in the dim light of the forest floor and are comfortable in the twilights.  Consequently their eyes are huge.  Their eyes also bulge from the tops of their heads so they can spot approaching predators from any directions.  The woodcocks’ eyes are so big and offset their eyes and brains are reversed.

    The woodcock locates earthworms by probing deep in the soil with its sensitive beak.  The tip of its beak is not only loaded with nerve endings, the upper beak is prehensile. It can curl its beak.

   Is there anything in the springtime forest that’s as funny as the woodcock’s appearance?  The woodcock’s courtship display is hysterical.

    These bizarre birds return to Pennsylvania in late February or early March, when the ground thaws enough to probe for worms.  They are the first migratory bird to breed in Pennsylvania.  The males establish a singing ground in dense scrubby fields.  Each evening, about the time humans lose their ability to perceive color, woodcock courtship begins.  Each male starts by “peenting.”  He repeatedly broadcasts a high-pitched, nasal “bZzzzz-dt.”  Turning, strutting in a tight circle, he calls in all directions . . . “bZzzzz-dt,” . . . “bZzzzz-dt,” . . . “bZzzzz-dt.”  The woodcocks are so intent they won’t notice curious bystanders on the edge of the field.  It’s best to watch from the eastern edge, facing the glow on the western horizon.  You won’t be alone.  Admiring female woodcocks will be nearby.

    When the male is sure that the field has been properly peented, and all the girls are watching, he explodes into flight.  He takes off on a low trajectory that barely clears the brush.  His blurry wings whistle a loud “whirr” as he blasts past your ear.  The flight rises in an expanding spiral that takes him up 300 feet.  At the peak he begins to “chip” and descends to earth.  Down he flutters in gentle arcs, each arc punctuated with a twittering “chip - chip - chip.”  He lightly floats down close to where he began.  After a tasteful pause, the woodcock begins again.

    While the woodcock is airborne curious spectators can move in and sit in the display ground.  With some adjustments after a flight or two, the bird will almost land in your lap.  Woodcocks are too busy to care, unless you laugh.  Restraining your joy is not always easy.  When you get within three or four feet, you can hear the woodcock’s secondary call, a deep, sharp “tuko” between each “bZzzzz-dt.” 

    Male woodcocks repeat this performance over and over, until the dim twilight gives way to darkness.  When I leave, I laugh for hours.