Day 243: Under the motivation of his biological imperative, Oscar the Grouse was doing a stupid thing: walking along the inside curve of a paved road, ignoring traffic. I was afraid we were going to be witness to the making of road pizza, but as soon as Joe and I stepped out of the truck with cameras in hand, the tourists coming up behind us started pulling over into the viewpoint to see what was going on. By that time, Oscar had increased his pace and was running along the verge in full turkey mode. At the end of a fifty-yard sprint, he dipped abruptly over the edge and flushed out two females. They made a dash to the yellow line, then flew up into the trees with the male following. I was glad to see them all in a safer spot when we drove away.
If English was a sensible language with the plural of "mouse" being "mice," then the plural of "grouse" should be "grice." Although I seldom see more than one (and that rarely), it is "grice" in my book (for those of you keeping track, you can put that in your notes beside "Porch Parrots" and my insistence on the spelling of "garbidge" because the world needs a few laughs). Oscar happens to be of the Blue/Sooty persuasion, and yes, I had to check that in the field guide. The distinction is in the colouration of those yellow air sacs he's so proudly displaying; our PNW birds tend to be the subspecies, but where the ranges overlap with Dusky (the "Blue" of the interior), they intergrade and the line becomes very blurry. That said, there was no doubt that Oscar here was bent on furthering his genetics, although his singleness of purpose almost left him as a candidate for the Darwin Award.
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