Woodcock draw rave reviews in outdoors theater

As quickly as dusk shooed the shadows off the woods road, a moon feeling full of itself shoved them back. “We couldn’t have ordered a better night for it,” Brad Allen remarked as he and Dan McAuley adjusted several mist nets strung at intervals across the road winding through Champion International land. Both men are wildlife biologists whose respective paychecks are written by the Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife and the U.S. Geological Survey.

“We had a few birds performing here the other night,” Dan replied while unfurling the wispy, fine-mesh net. Barely visible against the star-sequined afterglow and impossible to see against the silhouetted woods, the nets were set to capture mating woodcock. “It’s warmer tonight, though, and there’s no breeze,” Dan observed. “We should see some activity here pretty soon.”

Aside from the aforementioned, “we” included: Drs. Judy Rhymer and Fred Sevello of the University of Maine Wildlife Department, Jerry Longcore and Dave Klugston of the U.S. Geological Survey, Sean McAuley, Dan’s 14-year-old offspring, and you know who. Obviously, there was professional and personal interest involved in gathering to watch a 5-ounce bird perform its mating rituals. Understand, however, that from its long-ago opening night in the theater of the outdoors, that performance has drawn nothing but rave reviews.

Glancing at his watch, Brad predicted, “It’s getting to be about that time;” and, so help me, as though on cue a woodcock called in the woods behind us. Although the bird’s mating call is commonly described as a “peent,” it is more of a nasal “bzzst” – think of an old electric door buzzer – preceded by a soft two-note “tu-ku.” Only male woodcock call and display during their crepuscular courtships.

Talk about insects scattering when someone yells, “Raid.” Within seconds we were spread out and positioned so that the entire arrangement of nets – erected like enlarged volley ball nets along 100 yards or so of the road – was under surveillance.

As it turned out, Brad and I were seated front and center. No sooner were we hidden in brush near the closest end section of nets when another woodcock began singing in proximity to the first bird. Moments later, both woodcock took wing. Spiraling upward, the birds flew at each other until, as though suddenly aware of the moon’s radiant spotlight, they hovered directly in front of it before ascending out of sight.

Seconds later, the chirping, twittering notes that have been described as the woodcock’s true call were heard as the birds descended in swooping, erratic flight. Bat-like, one fluttered past us and scaled toward a net. At the last instant, however, the bird rose and skimmed over the obstruction. “He saw the net against the sky,” Brad whispered. Hardly were the words spoken, though, when the other woodcock descended and lit on the road directly in front of us, only a few feet away. Immediately, the long-billed Lothario began his serenade of steadily repeated calls. And after each call, the bird would turn quickly left or right, sometimes completely around, like one of those wind-up toys that constantly changes directions.

Our vigil, however, was not in vain. When the woodcock took off to resume its aerobatic display, it flew into the net positioned to our left. After removing the bird, Brad and I took it to where Dan, Sean, and Judy Rhymer were watching the middle section of nets. To our surprise, they were examining the woodcock that avoided our nets only to fly into one of theirs.

The ages of the birds, both 1-year-old males, were determined by examination of barred markings on secondary wing feathers. After the birds were banded and weighed, bill measurements were recorded and blood samples were taken from wing veins. The samples will be DNA tested for use in studies regarding breeding activity of male woodcock. With a whirr of wings, the birds, obviously unaffected by the experience, disappeared into the smudgy woods.

Without being brassy, I’ll say every hunter that ever looked at a woodcock over the barrels of a shotgun should make an effort to witness the mating rituals of these truly remarkable creatures. To do so provides a perspective that increases respect and admiration of the grand little game birds whose migrations alone are testimony to their resilience and resourcefulness, but whose numbers, unfortunately, are declining. In that regard, it was encouraging to see a youngster like Sean McAuley showing genuine interest in studying the ways and worth of nature and wildlife. What’s taught in the classroom of the outdoors has far greater value than anything learned by hanging out at the mall, for sure. Sean has been catching a few brook trout, too; but he made no mention of where – which told me he had learned a few values already.

Dan McAuley called it right: We saw a lot of woodcock activity that night. Although only three birds were captured, recorded, and released, six or more, including two females identifiable by their distinctively larger size, appeared on stage. A pair that held the attention of Fred Sevello and Dave Klugston, stationed at the far end of the nets, eventually flew the coop, so to speak. Jerry Longcore heard woodcock singing near the woods road he was situated on, but didn’t see the birds, which were using a clearing back in the woods. Typically, male woodcock select clearings for their mating rituals.

Like theater patrons leaving a playhouse, we walked to our vehicles discussing the players, props, songs, and acts that were performed so perfectly on a massive stage lit with moonglow. Every line was clear and on cue, the sets were magnificent and the acoustics were outstanding.

See what I mean? Nothing but rave reviews.

Tom Hennessey’s column can be accessed through the BDN internet home page: http://www.bangornews.com