By Mike Blom
Field Technician and Bird Specialist for Redberry Lake Biosphere
Early mornings are my favorite time of the day: sunrise when it’s quiet and you can hear the new sounds of spring. It’s especially amazing when you hear something out of the ordinary, like the arrival of new bird species. This was the case on March 30, when I was out for a walk along a quiet country road, warm clothes on, rubber boots and my binoculars in hand. I heard a booming sound like a Long-eared Owl calling to attract a mate. Eventually, I reached the site which was on a Ducks Unlimited quarter section where public access is permitted if you’re on foot.
I walked further in and crept as quietly as I could, trying to locate the exact location without flushing or scaring whatever it was making such a bizarre call. Buffalo berries skewed my view as the snow crunched under every step. I thought to myself, “this is going to be impossible to sneak up”, so I walked slowly, trying to make as little sound as possible. I could hear these sounds as if it was someone or something tap dancing but with much faster footsteps. As I got to within a couple hundred meters, I peaked over the buffalo berry patch obscuring my view, and a few more hundred meters at the edge of the DU property was a bare spot, and there were Sharp-tailed Grouse dancing and making bizarre booming and gurgling sounds. I sat and watched, not going any further as to not disturb what I was witnessing. I couldn’t believe my eyes; I had always dreamt of finding a grouse Lek and now here I was. I decided I would come back the following morning and set up a ground blind and hope to get photographs and video of the experience.
The next morning, I was up at 5 am and walked to the site in the dark, walking with a blind over one shoulder, my camera over the other, and rubber boots on. I was so excited for what had been a boyhood dream to potentially come true. It took me 20 minutes to walk into the site, get through a barbed wire fence without ripping my blind and camera gear, which isn’t easy to do in the dark. I had hoped I had found the right spot, viewing all around in the dark with my headlamp. I could see bare patches at the edge of the stubble field where they had their dancing ground, positive confirmation with feathers and bird poop. I placed my blind far enough away and oriented it to have the morning sun at my back. Just as I finished setting my blind up and sat down on my chair, breathing the crisp morning air and drinking my coffee, I could hear fast rapid wingbeats, and the first grouse landed right in front of me.
There was barely any light to see anything, and more and more birds kept landing at the site. Males began making booming sounds, and I could see red air sacks inflated on either side of their necks and brilliant yellow eyebrows flared as they began dancing, heads down, wings extended, and rapid footsteps almost as if they were tap dancing. Females sat at the perimeter of the lek watching as males danced and called. Once one male had the attention of a female, another male would come and face that male head-on; they would call and sit facing each other. Either this would lead to them both getting up and dancing more, or they would jump up in the air and collide, almost like roosters fighting. This went on for over an hour, and photo opportunities would get better as the sun started to rise. I sat there for almost two hours when all of a sudden, all the birds’ heads shot up, and they noticed something and all flew away. I wondered what had just happened when I saw a coyote headed in my direction. I quickly packed all my gear up thinking this was a great time to depart. The whole walk home, all I could think about was the experience I had just witnessed, another amazing moment in nature that I wish I could have experienced with my dad. It was these types of moments he taught me to appreciate.
Quick Facts About Sharp-tailed Grouse:
The Sharp-tailed Grouse exhibits a diverse foraging behavior, scavenging both on the ground and in trees. On the ground, they peck at seeds, grains, and insects, while in trees, they feed on buds, flowers, and berries. Their flights between roosting and feeding areas are robust, often covering several miles. During courtship, males congregate on specific grounds known as leks, where they engage in rapid-stepping displays, vocalizations, and occasional skirmishes.
Their habitats vary depending on location. In grasslands and prairies, particularly in the southern part of their range, they are often found amidst dense shrubs. In the northern regions, they inhabit bog edges and shrubby openings within boreal forests. During winter, their habitat typically includes croplands, along with taller shrubs and trees in areas sheltered from harsh weather conditions.
Notably, differences in appearance exist between northern and southern populations of Sharp-tailed Grouse. Those in the northern regions, dwelling in bogs and brushy openings within boreal forests, tend to have darker plumage, almost blackish, with more prominent spotting on their upperparts compared to their counterparts in southern populations, which inhabit open prairie landscapes. Unfortunately, a subspecies known as hueyi, once found in northeastern New Mexico, has now become extinct.