photo: Jared Hobbs,
www.hobbsphotos.com
Dances with grouse
Writer, biologist, and unwitting voyeur Frances Backhouse reports from the Thompson grasslands where Columbian sharp-tails gather each spring to shake their feathered booties.
Peering out of my tent at the wildlife spectacle taking place before me, I am struck by a sense of déjà vu. It’s not the participants that are familiar; they’re the first Columbian sharp-tailed grouse I’ve ever seen. But the way they’re swaggering about has stirred up memories, taking me back to those small-town bars where testosterone levels run high and every male head turns when a single woman walks through the door.
Elaborate posturing and big talk, dominant males in the centre of the crowd, inexperienced youths hanging around the edges—I’ve seen it all before. The only real difference between this scene and the places where I spent too many Saturday nights in my early 20s is that (thankfully) Rod Stewart isn’t belting out “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy?” in the background. No need for the soundtrack. With their eager chatter and fancy footwork, these avian Romeos are doing a first-rate job of broadcasting their desire across the rolling Interior grasslands of the Thompson Plateau, as dawn gradually transforms the landscape from monotone grey to shades of buff and green.
Unlike British Columbia’s four other grouse species, sharp-tails perform their courtship rituals communally at traditional dancing grounds known as leks. These sites, if undisturbed, may be used annually over decades. Every spring from late March to early May, males gather daily to strut their stuff at the leks, each one trying to convince as many females as possible that he’s the best prospect in the annual genetic sweepstakes. The contest starts shortly before sunrise and continues for two to four hours.
Read more in the current issue of British Columbia Magazine
