The Dance of the Pileated Woodpeckers
September 4th, 2009
So you think the oriole was neat?
You think Mud Lake pulled something pretty strange on me that day?
You ain't seen nothin' yet.
I first saw it walking down the road along the north shore of the lake. A big bird--no, two big birds--hopping around on the lawn of the filtration plant. Their stiff, exaggerated mannerisms put me in mind of Pileated Woodpeckers. I got closer and saw that they were indeed Pileated Woodpeckers: those magnificent, crow-sized woodpeckers with bright red crests. I've seen them many times, but each new sighting is a thrill.
That was the first surprise. Just that they were there. I've never seen nor heard Pileated Woodpeckers in that part of the conservation area. It's just not their habitat. They're deep-woods birds, not manicured-lawn birds!
I got up close and started photographing them, and was soon joined by a second photographer. The birds were very active, yet they didn't seem to be accomplishing anything. They just kept hopping around, posturing. It went on and on. And finally I realized they must be courting each other--even in September, they must be courting, or doing some sort of pair-bonding ritual in an already-existing relationship. There was no other explanation for such strange behavior, other than perhaps the presence of a powerful mood-altering drug. It was more than play. It was too earnest, too stereotyped, too, well, feverish to be merely play.
It was like a dance. He turned this way, she turned that way. They touched bills. They hopped up on a tree trunk together and played hide-and-seek. They pecked at things, but only in a way that seemed to say, "watch me peck wood!" "No, watch me peck wood!"
I've long known Ottawa Pileateds to be unusually tame, but this was a new record. They did all this in full view of two photographers, and eventually other onlookers; none of us were that far away. After awhile of it, one of them--I presumed the male--hopped away from the tree and started up a mating call. It was that loud, maniacal-laughter-type call that Pileateds do. Over and over again, non-stop, for minutes, "cuk cuk cuk cuk cuk!" Hopping and waving his bill with every "cuk." He got so into it, he hopped right off the lawn and into the road, still cuk-ing. I was beginning to seriously suspect that these birds were on something. Something good. Spanish fly for avians.
A utility vehicle drove by, and even that didn't phase them. Bless his heart, the driver slowed to a crawl to avoid hitting the bird that was still in the road. I thought I heard the driver make a "Woody Woodpecker" laugh. (Which pleased me. Woody Woodpecker was in fact modelled on Pileated Woodpeckers.)
Then one of them flew to another tree, and the other followed, and the dance continued awhile. And finally they flew off together into the distance. The other photographer and I looked at each other, and we both agreed: wow, that was really something. Yes, they must have been courting. What else?
When I arrived home, I loaded the memory card and looked through the 60+ pictures I had taken. That's when the punchline was delivered.
They were both male.
1680x1050 wallpaper
1680x1050 wallpaper
Once I saw that telltale red cheek stripe on both birds, everything took on new meaning: it was an epic territorial battle, with each male trying to out-peck, out-posture, out-voice, and generally out-woodpecker the other to prove he had the rights to Mud Lake. It seems obvious now. Although I will confess some sentimental attachment to my original impression of things: that it was the most unusual avian courtship I had ever seen!
September 4th, 2009
So you think the oriole was neat?
You think Mud Lake pulled something pretty strange on me that day?
You ain't seen nothin' yet.
I first saw it walking down the road along the north shore of the lake. A big bird--no, two big birds--hopping around on the lawn of the filtration plant. Their stiff, exaggerated mannerisms put me in mind of Pileated Woodpeckers. I got closer and saw that they were indeed Pileated Woodpeckers: those magnificent, crow-sized woodpeckers with bright red crests. I've seen them many times, but each new sighting is a thrill.
That was the first surprise. Just that they were there. I've never seen nor heard Pileated Woodpeckers in that part of the conservation area. It's just not their habitat. They're deep-woods birds, not manicured-lawn birds!
I got up close and started photographing them, and was soon joined by a second photographer. The birds were very active, yet they didn't seem to be accomplishing anything. They just kept hopping around, posturing. It went on and on. And finally I realized they must be courting each other--even in September, they must be courting, or doing some sort of pair-bonding ritual in an already-existing relationship. There was no other explanation for such strange behavior, other than perhaps the presence of a powerful mood-altering drug. It was more than play. It was too earnest, too stereotyped, too, well, feverish to be merely play.
It was like a dance. He turned this way, she turned that way. They touched bills. They hopped up on a tree trunk together and played hide-and-seek. They pecked at things, but only in a way that seemed to say, "watch me peck wood!" "No, watch me peck wood!"
I've long known Ottawa Pileateds to be unusually tame, but this was a new record. They did all this in full view of two photographers, and eventually other onlookers; none of us were that far away. After awhile of it, one of them--I presumed the male--hopped away from the tree and started up a mating call. It was that loud, maniacal-laughter-type call that Pileateds do. Over and over again, non-stop, for minutes, "cuk cuk cuk cuk cuk!" Hopping and waving his bill with every "cuk." He got so into it, he hopped right off the lawn and into the road, still cuk-ing. I was beginning to seriously suspect that these birds were on something. Something good. Spanish fly for avians.
A utility vehicle drove by, and even that didn't phase them. Bless his heart, the driver slowed to a crawl to avoid hitting the bird that was still in the road. I thought I heard the driver make a "Woody Woodpecker" laugh. (Which pleased me. Woody Woodpecker was in fact modelled on Pileated Woodpeckers.)
Then one of them flew to another tree, and the other followed, and the dance continued awhile. And finally they flew off together into the distance. The other photographer and I looked at each other, and we both agreed: wow, that was really something. Yes, they must have been courting. What else?
When I arrived home, I loaded the memory card and looked through the 60+ pictures I had taken. That's when the punchline was delivered.
They were both male.
1680x1050 wallpaper
1680x1050 wallpaper
Once I saw that telltale red cheek stripe on both birds, everything took on new meaning: it was an epic territorial battle, with each male trying to out-peck, out-posture, out-voice, and generally out-woodpecker the other to prove he had the rights to Mud Lake. It seems obvious now. Although I will confess some sentimental attachment to my original impression of things: that it was the most unusual avian courtship I had ever seen!
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