audrey said:
That's funny, I've never encountered spruce grouse that were aggressive. They held their ground and were curious, but I have never seen defensive behavior. Ruffed grouse, on the other hand, have burst out at us from undergrowth and done the broken-wing and squealing-like-a-pig routine in circles around us.
The ruffed grouse broken wing act always has seemed far more theatrical than aggressive, at least to me. I always am amused at the sudden healing of the wing that occurs when Mama Partridge figures she has led us far enough away from her brood, and thunders off through woods.
One of the funnier episodes like this in recent years involved a pat that jumped out of the bushes on one side of the trail, did her broken wing thing while bouncing along my dog’s back, from rear to front, up over the dog’s head and finally back to ground right under the dog’s nose, flailing that wing around all the way. Pooch just stood there with a sort of “What was that?” as the bird flopped off into the forest on the far side of the trail, got healed and flew away. My dog is one of the hunting breeds, a Springer Spaniel. It was then I suspected she was born to be a "consumer" and not a "producer."
As for outright aggressive grouse incidents, I had one a few years back, along a country road after a hike. Cock bird jumped out in front of the van I was driving, puffed out his breast, fanned his tail and did that little Japanese Kabuki dancer thing male pats do when squaring off to defend their mating ground. He sure cowed the van, which quickly came to a halt. My bird dog sat in her seat and watched quietly in awe as the bird did its dance, making me wonder about her heritage and instincts again.
I never actually was hit by the goshawk that used to nest alongside a trail I frequently hike, but got buzzed many times. The first pass usually would come from behind, then the thing would circle back through the woods, line up on me again and swoop in from the front. Occasional assaults would come from the side. All assaults were accompanied by demon-like screeching. Very intimidating -- enough to make me duck -- but I don’t think the bird ever actually got within a trekking pole’s length of me.
Many years ago I awoke one morning in an Adirondack leanto along the Raquette River and noticed something “twitching” in one of the rafters over head. Didn’t have my glasses on, and coudn’t really make out what I was looking at, but it seemed like a bird’s tail. A bit later, sitting on the front riser of the leanto and drinking some tea a darned swallow swooped in at me, and also at my partner. It would come within a couple feet or less of our faces, put on the air brakes and “brandish” its little “talons.” Scary, I’ll tell you. This happened repeatedly, and even a frying pan wielded like a tennis racquet would not discourage the beastie.
Eventually my partner and I put two and two together and realized the swallow probably had a nest inside the leanto. So when we saw it circle around for one of its shots at us, we moved out of the way. Sure enough. The bird glided into the shelter and up to its nest. We got along famously after that.
There have been roosters (chickens), geese and swans in my life, too. But the grouse, goshawk and swallow provided favorite episodes.
G.
