Things That Go MEEP In the Night!
Things that go MEEP in the Night
It's been a while since Jeb has scratched up something for ya'll to read, but not from a lack of going out into the field!
Earlier this Spring Jeb had taken an interest in helping salamanders and other slippery fellas cross the street on warm, rainy spring nights. On that perfect conjunction of the spheres, on that first warm rainy night, you get mass migrations of God's tiniest creatures as they make their way to vernal pools to find a mate. Some call this first perfect night "The Big Night" in the salamander community.
On one of those potential nights, Jeb went out into the field with his flashlight, a reflective vest, headlamp, and a dream.
This champion of light went out into the wilderness to an undisclosed New England road nestled between a swamp and a river in hopes of finding some salamanders along the road. As Jeb worked his way up and down this road, the rain had stopped, and the clouds above gently rolled by. Although the temps were in the low 50's (considered HIGH this time of year!), the lack of rain meant that the great migration would have to wait a little while longer.
As previously mentioned in the previous vernal pools article, the mass emergence of these creatures in the early spring could potentially be a food source for Sasquatch after a long, cold, New England winter! The evening venture had two purposes, help those slimy, slithering, suckers across the road, and maybe find some Sasquatch signs as well! The damp fields that surrounded the road with piles of leftover winter ice would make for perfect conditions to find some tracks or footprints.
Just because there weren't any salamanders on the road didn't mean that there wasn't plenty of opportunity for discovery on this "warm" spring night! The nearby fields were still potentially full of other creatures and Squatch signs, so Jeb took the evening to explore this area. The darkness had set in, and the only thing that punctuated the never ending night was the beams of light emanating from Jeb's forehead and flashlight. While canvassing the area, there were plenty of odd noises that needed to be investigated.
When traveling in the dark, it's hard to tell exactly what is creating every little sound. Some of the loudest rustlings in the leafy forest floor end up being from squirrels, chipmunks, or some other tiny innocuous creature. When going off of sound alone, it is easy to imagine all kinds of creatures lurking on the other side of the tree line!
But the sounds Jeb heard that night were not merely the rustling of leaves, or the shaking of tree branches in the night's darkness. This was a sound unlike any typical forest background noise. Not the breeze in the trees, not a little critters paw in the leaves, and not heavy footsteps. It was a loud and distinctive MEEP!
This was an unfamiliar sound to Jeb, and certainly piqued his curiosity. Could this be some kind of frog down in the swamp water that has recently emerged? Could this be some kind of duck or waterfowl that has returned from the south? Could this be some kind of hair bipedal creature mimicking sounds in the inky black night? Every pot had a lid, and every question has an answer. Jeb followed the sounds the best he could, eventually making it to an empty field.
Eventually, the MEEPing did get close enough that a source could be identified. But as Jeb got close enough to nail down a location, the creature flew up in a beautifully choreographed spiral and landed further into the darkness. At this point, it was clear that we were dealing with some kind of bird. But what the hell kind of bird takes off and does a sassy little dance before landing again?
Ladies and fellas, The American Woodcock. Known by name names around the country, sometimes colloquially referred to as the timberdoodle, mudbat, becasse, bogsucker, brush snipe, night partridge, or Labrador twister. Timberdoodles migrate at night, and in the spring occupy individual singing grounds to attract a mate. The male's ground call is a short, buzzy MEEP. After sounding a series of ground calls, the male takes off and flies from 50 to 100 yd into the air. He descends, zigzagging and banking while singing a liquid, chirping song. This high spiraling flight produces a melodious twittering sound as air rushes through the male's outer primary wing feathers.
If there seduction methods weren't enough to impress you, then certainly the absolute swagger that they display while foraging will be!
This whole evening stands as another reminder for all of those folks who get out into the field. Even if you don't find exactly what you're looking for, you're still bound to find something amazing if you put yourself out there!
Stay tuned for future expeditions into the unknown! Keep on Squatchin!
