This is the 15th year of continuous daily publication for 365Caws. All things considered, it's likely it will be the last year as it is becoming increasingly difficult for me to find interesting material. However, I hope that I may have inspired someone to a greater curiosity about the natural world with my natural history posts, or encouraged a novice weaver or needleworker. If so, I've done what I set out to do.
Tuesday, April 19, 2022
Killdeer, Charadrius Vociferus
Day 188: With gas prices being what they are ($4.89/gallon for regular!), I have to maximize my trips out. Today's venture included lab work for my doctor, picking up my grocery order, a site steward visit for the Land Trust, two invasive-plant patrols and an unexpected encounter with a Killdeer who did their best to lead me across the street, into a gutter, and far, far away from where there must have been at least the beginnings of a nest. These large plovers have a penchant for paved surfaces and gravel, and even when nesting in short vegetation, may line the bottom of the nest with rocks, preferring white to darker colours. Presumably, this helps keep the nest warm, the pebbles retaining some of the body heat generated by the parents who take shifts during incubation. Although the chicks leave the nest within a day or two of hatching, they cannot fly for the first month of life. Either parent may attempt to lead predators away from the young by feigning a broken wing. Although this bird didn't try to fool me into believing it was injured, it was definitely trying to lead me away from the area where I first saw it. And for those of you who wonder why it is called a Killdeer, the term has nothing to do with the slaughter of cervine animal. It is the call of the bird, and can be heard on western Washington's prairie lands, "kill-DEEER! kill-DEEER!" as vociferously as its Latin name suggests.
Labels:
Charadrius vociferus,
Killdeer,
plover,
Yelm
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