Light was starting to rise up from the east, with stars still shining. Outside, I was listening for woodcocks. I pulled my parka closer but left the hood down, exposing my cold ears so I could hear.
From out on the field, near the edge of woods, came a low but penetrating buzz.
Recording © Diane Porter
American Woodcock. Calling for romance. Peent! … Peent! … Peent!
In the faint, pixillated light of dawn, I could make out a dark blotch against the frosty grass. My binoculars brightened the image and revealed a plump, long-billed bird. He turned around and around in a rhythmic dance. Every few steps, he stretched his head up, opened his bill, and went Peent.
Courtship time
March is woodcock courting time in Iowa, when the males dance and sing. If you wish to observe this ancient ceremony, you’ll need an open field near woods. Go there at dawn or dusk in early spring and listen for the peent.
A woodcock is shaped something like a mini chicken with an enormously long, thin bill. He struts and calls and watches for a female to respond.
One evening, I was holding my breath as I watched a male perform. Darkness was closing in.
Suddenly the peents stopped. The woodcock leapt into the air. He was flying fast. He zoomed directly over my head, short little wings beating at a mad pace.
For a few seconds he flew in silence. I saw him spiraling upward, higher and higher. I heard twittering, faint at first. Then louder chirps.
Recording © Diane Porter
Instruments of music
A woodcock chirps with his voice, in the same way that other birds sing. The twittering is something else. It comes from air flowing through wing feathers that are specially adapted to produce a melodious sound. Like the flutes of heaven.
The woodcock circled above. I lost track of him in the darkening sky.
Suddenly he hurtled down and landed close in front of me. He looked at me sideways with his huge, darkness-adapted eye. I didn’t dare raise my binoculars or move a muscle.
He took a step. Peent!
The nasal sound came out like a sneeze, making his head rise up for a moment. He slowly turned, an actor at a theater-in-the-round ensuring that everyone in the audience hears him.
Listening to the woodcock
I was in that audience. However, it is not for me that the male makes poetry with his wings.
In the brush at the edge of the field, female woodcocks are listening, judging, deciding. When a female makes her choice, she and the male will mate. Then she will build her nest on the ground in the woods. She will brood her eggs and raise the chicks with no additional male assistance.
Longing fulfilled
American Woodcocks perform and court only in the faint light of dawn and dusk. For years I have wanted to witness a female’s approach. It has never happened when there was enough light for me to really see.
One night I had my camera aimed at a displaying male. As the light was disappearing, the woodcock raised his wings and ran a few steps. I couldn’t see through the viewfinder any more, but I kept my camera recording.
The dark video shows the male, wings spread, approaching another woodcock, who is walking away from him.
Video © Diane Porter
He bounds forward, mounts her, and flutters his wings as if to keep his balance. After a few moments, he slips off backward, and she runs ahead.
The two birds melt into the deepening night.
Wonderful descriptions of the behaviors many of us will never see.
I just opened my window this evening and was greeted by the first Peent! Peent! I’ve heard in a long time and instantly thought of your post :)